


The Date

by coplins



Series: Packrunners [31]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Ableist Language, Blind Date, First Dates, M/M, Multi, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Pack Dynamics, Scent Marking, Scents & Smells, group date
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-05
Updated: 2018-10-07
Packaged: 2019-07-07 02:38:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 39,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15899205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coplins/pseuds/coplins
Summary: It's finally time for the Winchester pack to have their pack date with the Williams pack. Sam hurries there to be there before Dean. A lot of people are about to be surprised. :)





	1. Greeting the Mate

**Author's Note:**

> Finally! Okay, so the first chapter is rather short in comparison. I've had one chapter in this part of the story finished for months, writing it just after I finished the Dick Roman story. In short, in this instalment, we find out who was the baby daddy. ^^ But not here. Now we're just starting out. :) I've divided this story into multiple chapters because there is just so much going on it would be ridiculous to put it all in one. Rating may or may not go up as I write.
> 
> Oh, and in case you missed it, I just published another instalment before this that isn't relevant to the plot but deals with Dean's foray into learning about Progs.

* * *

Sam had told Dean he’d meet him at the restaurant. It’s just an excuse to get to be there to see Dean’s face when he realises who he’s come to date. The last days Dean’s been a nervous wreck. He’d tried not to show it, but his jitters had the air buzzing so Sam noticed. He almost felt bad about keeping Dean in the dark. Almost.

Dean had insisted Sam got to know Dick, so the last week they’d hung out several times. Dick’s giving him a lot of mixed feelings, same as Adam and his mom had when they were joined to the pack back home. This is different, though, since this is the pack he’s determined to stay in for the rest of his life. He’d been shocked to find himself jealous when Dick and Dean had been siphoning each other on Charlie’s balcony. He hadn’t been presented yet when the pack back home expanded and maybe that’s why he hadn’t felt quite like this when that happened. Now, though, he too wants to siphon Dick. Maybe it’s a scent thing? When he and Dean came home that night Sam had acted like a needy brat, insisting on bonding sex despite Dean being tired. Sort of a ‘Fix my scent to match!’ kind of thing.

He likes Dick as a person. He’d coaxed Dick into long discussions about science, biology, and behavior. The older man is a well of knowledge and has an answer to almost all of Sam’s questions. Plus, he smells good. He would make a great addition to the pack if he decides to run with them.

Sam isn’t nervous. He already knows two of the Alphas he’s heading to date and he’ll just be introduced to their brothers. It isn’t a huge deal. Hell, he already has been introduced to Mike by scent. He’s tried to dress to impress. He even went as far as to go and use some of his earnings from Aze’s to buy a pristine white shirt, a suit jacket, and a tie. The Williams pack, unsurprisingly, has chosen a very fancy venue for hosting the date. Sam doesn’t want to be stopped by the door because he’s dressed like a lumberjack. 

He spots Lucifer outside. Luci’s pacing back and forth outside of the restaurant door - smoking, of all things. He sniffs the air, face lighting up in joy as he turns in Sam’s direction. He drops the cig and kills it under the toe of his shoe when he spots Sam. “Sam!” He exclaims and takes a few steps in Sam’s direction. 

Sam jogs the last bit with an elated flutter in his heart. Lucifer opens his arm to receive him. His belly swoops happily as he burrows his nose into Lucifer's neck and inhales deeply. It's a bit strange to smell a faint mating bond with his own marker when he himself doesn't have one - something that Luci discovers as well when scenting him. Sam returns the first affectionate temple rubs, but then Lucifer starts rubbing more thoroughly, marking him, _claiming_ him. “Lucifer, don't." For half a second Sam can smell the scent version of a gasp and an 'Oh no!’ Then Luci suddenly smells of every friggin emotion possible at the same time. It's the same as it had been coming to the city being bombarded with scent but on one person. It's impossible. You _can't_ feel every feeling at once. It hides Luci's true feelings as effectively as being scentless would do.

“No.Of course not. Why would he?” Luci mumbles under his breath and lets go of Sam. “Forgive me,” he says louder. “I was hoping… Stupid, I know. You ran from me, so I should have known you didn’t want―”

Sam cuts him off with a smile. “Stop. It’s not that. Look, I just want things to be done the right way. Get to know each other. My Main approving. You actually _asking_ before we tie the knot, so to speak.”

Luci perks up. “So… you don’t want _not_ to be mated to me?”

Sam smirks lopsidedly. “No. I don’t want not to be mated to you. I’ve missed you.”

Luci chirps happily and pulls Sam in for another hug, his scent once again one of joy. It feels so good to be wrapped in his arms. Lucifer seems like a much softer person than the impression he'd given the last time they met. There's a fragile tenderness about his reactions.

Suddenly there's a brief spike of panic in Luci's scent before It's jumbled again and he steps away once again, running a hand through his hair nervously. “Sam, I’m thrilled to see you again, but…” He takes a deep breath and blows it out in a stressed ‘ _phew_. “Oh boy, this is awkward. Okay, I’d love to invite you for dinner and spend the evening but I can’t and I’m gonna have to ask you to leave now.” He bites his lip and gives Sam a regretful pleading look.

Sam raises an eyebrow in dry amusement. “Uh-huh.”

“It’s not my idea. You’ve got to believe me. You see, my brother met this O at the DMV and booked a pack date and father said participation isn’t optional. I told him I didn’t want to come since I’d already found you but he insisted and when he insists you don’t refuse,” Luci babbles desperately, ending by bending his neck and licking his lips in submission.

Sam tries not to laugh while he crosses his arms over his chest. “So you’re here to court an O properly and expect me to settle for an accidental mating followed by a claiming? Did you have any plans on telling me of this date?”

“Not in so many words, no?” Luci answers voice tilting up at the end and shoulders hunching as he’s expecting Sam to get very angry.

“Luci! What are you doing? Father― Oh. Sam. You made it.” Raphael comes out of the restaurant scolding Luci annoyedly but voice and demeanour shifting when he spots Sam. He smiles widely, deep-purrs and opens his arms for a hug that Sam steps into, exchanging an affectional temple rub before stepping away to hold Sam on arm length to give him an appreciative once-over. “You look very handsome tonight. Where’s your brother?”

“Thank you. He’ll be here. I wanted to come early so I could see his reaction when he realises who he’s come to see.”

Raff chuckles. “There’s a sadistic streak in you. I hope you know it’s been torture for me to keep myself from looking him up after you told me who it was? I’ve been dreaming of meeting him again since that weekend back in Kansas.”

Sam gives him a shiteating grin. “Yeah. I’d apologise but I’m not really sorry.”

Luci has been following their greeting in silence. Now he frowns and narrows his eyes suspiciously while gesturing for timeout. “Time the fuck out. Are you telling me that Gabe’s DMV Omega is _Dean fucking Winchester_?!”

Sam sniggers and Raphael grins. “None other.”

Luci looks like he’s about to implode. “And you’d met him before?”

“Spent a Heat with him while on a business trip to Kansas a few years ago.”

“ _And you didn’t tell me?_ So you, Mikey, and Gabe have all―! For the love of―! That’s not fair!”

Sam and Raff both laugh. “If it’s any consolation Gabe doesn’t know either,” Raff says.

“It’s not! Does Mike know?”

“I don’t know but I haven’t told him.” 

Luci scowls at Raff, opens his mouth to say something but closes it again face smoothing out as he realises something. He turns his gaze on Sam. “And you, you bastard, let me squirm. Did you give my letter to Dean?”

The smile on Sam’s face falters. “I did, yeah.”

“And?” Luci demands.

“And he burned it.”

“He _burned_ it?!” Luci makes a wounded noise and turns around to slump with his forehead pressed against the wall. “We’re doomed. I’ve ruined it all.”

“Luci,” Raff says sternly. “You could at least _try_ to pretend you’re not an over-dramatic, overgrown five-year-old and attempt to make a good impression.”

“Oh, what’s the point?” Luci mopes.

Sam’s tried not to think about Dean burning the letter. It makes him a bit nervous. “Dean likes you and he’s crazy about your scent,” he says. “He’s even more into Primal flirting than I am. You’ll be fine.” He hopes.

Luci peeks at him over the shoulder from where he’s drooping against the wall. “You really think so?”

“Yeah, I do. Besides, Mike, Gabe, and Raff are already on his good side.”

“See? You’ll do fine,” Raff agrees. “And we better head inside. Father said to get you.”

“F-father? Marlon is here? I thought it was just going to be you and your brothers?” Sam asks, suddenly nearly terrified from nerves.

“Dean didn’t tell you? He called Gabe today and demanded our Patriarch be here as well. He said that if he was going to give any thought whatsoever to joining his pack to ours he wanted to meet all of us,” Raff tells him with a smile.

“No, he didn’t tell me.” Sam had thought he’d get to know his future mates before he’d be faced with the Patriarch. Now he’s regretting that he didn’t wait for Dean so they could arrive together…

* * *


	2. Delay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean decides to make a crucial phone call before the date and Sam is fretting about Dean being late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Karma is biting Sam in the ass for not telling Dean. ^^

* * *

Dean keeps taking deep breaths to calm himself down. He's got nervous worms crawling in his belly. He's been staring at his phone for five fucking minutes and he's running late. If he can just make up his mind about making this call or not. Not be a chicken shit. Where do you draw the line of respect anyway? “I’m doing this,” he mutters to himself and hits the call button then presses the phone to his ear.

“Hello, dear. Is there a problem? I wasn't expecting to hear from you tonight considering your evening plans.”

"Wha―? No, no. There's no―" Dean's always a bit jarred out of his track when Dick jumps right into the conversation like this. “You know what? Yeah. There is a huge fucking problem. I'm standing one block away from the restaurant and I'm running late. I'm _this_ close to calling it off altogether until my problem is solved even though Sammy’s probably there already and I requested their Patriarch to be there too...”

Dean can hear the television being shut off in the background. “Oh? Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Actually, yeah. You’re the only one who can. This is a pack date, right? We’re potentially going to join our two packs together if everything goes well. Like, it’s gonna take more than one meeting before that happens but tonight is for feeling out the chemistry between our packs. See if these guys are potential mates or not and all that. Make sure all pack members get along, right? If not, then I might have to snipe Sam’s mate and forget about Gabe. Like, there’s a lot at stake. We’re looking for mates, right? But if this doesn’t pan out there’s plenty of other fish in the woods.”

Dick chuckles. “The expression is plenty of fish in the sea, Dean.”

Dean smiles and leans against the wall of the building. “For a Packrunner in this day and age? Nu-uh.”

Dick makes a contemplative sound. “You’ve got a point. So what is it you want from me?”

“It’s a pack date. The whole pack needs to be there for there to be a point.” Dean pauses. There’s only silence answering him from Dick’s side of the line. Dean bends his head and rubs a hand over his face. “Look, Dicky, I told you I’d put no pressure on you, right? But I think I have to. My nose and my heart tell me the same thing; You belong with us. Whether it just be as a siderunner or as a core member, that’s up to you. I get that you wouldn’t want to move in with us and I get that to be able to entice you to do so I’d have to get a bigger apartment in the best parts of the city. I can do that, if that’s what it takes. But that shit will take some time, okay? But this date? Potentially, it changes everything about our pack. Today we’re talking about you running with a small pack of bachelor Omegas, if I give you all the time in the world to think we might have joined this other pack and things start getting complicated. I want you to be part of us. I want you to allow me to be as possessive and protective of you as I feel like. I want to introduce you as a pack member when I talk to people. And, fuck, I want you to come and be part of this date so these guys know you come in the package deal, and so you can give your opinion about it too because it’ll be your future _too_. I can’t make a pack decision of this magnitude without my whole pack present. I promise I won’t try to force you into anything you don’t want. I don’t want to take advantage of your money or any shit like that. I’m not trying to tell you what to do with your life, but I want you in my pack and if you want that too you need to come to the date with us or I’m gonna postpone it.”

“What if they’re no longer interested in your pack after they find out I come as part of the deal?” Dick muses after a prolonged silence.

“In that case, fuck ‘em. Then we’ll snipe Sam’s mate from them and look elsewhere. You smell absolutely gorgeous and are a pleasant guy to be around. You’re an asset to any pack. If they don’t like you, they’ve got bad taste and no sense and that’s _exactly_ why I want you there. Ain’t nobody dissing my pack, my _family_ , okay? But if you come, that’s it. You belong to the Winchester pack. I can’t bring someone from outside the pack. Can’t let someone who isn’t part of us dictate my decisions, you feel me? So if you need more time to decide I’ll call and postpone.” Dean bites his lip and tenses up, holding his breath waiting for the answer.

“Don’t postpone it,” Dick says after a beat of silence.

Dean slumps against the wall in disappointment. There's a stupid lump forming in his throat, thick, and hard to swallow past. He shouldn't have pressured Dick. Now he might have scared him off completely. Sasha had said forming the bond was the hard part of getting someone new to join the pack. The bond is already there and now Dean's going to pay the emotional price of being rejected. _Fuck._ “Yeah, okay. You know where we are if you change your mind, okay?"

After they've hung up Dean slumps into a squat pressing the heels of his hands against his eyes in an effort not to cry. Dad had once said that to a Main or Patriarch there's nothing worse than to lose a pack member. Dean had presumed that he meant by death but maybe that wasn't the case. Not with how miserable and heavy his body feels right now. He's known Dick for a very short period of time and still, it feels like getting his heart torn out.

* * *

“ _HOLY SMOKES!_ " The short man with the garish tie (pink, with two large blue and green kittens surrounded by yellow and red butterflies on it) makes big eyes when he spots Sam. He takes two steps in his direction sniffing the air then his eyes go impossibly wider. He pops the lollipop out of his mouth and says, “Crapadoodle! _You're_ the janitor?!"

Sam laughs. "No. That's Dean, my brother and Main.”

For a moment the short man looks stunned, then he grins. “That means..."

“That you spent a Heat with the janitor, yes,” Lucifer fills in miserably from Sam’s side.

"Far out!" The short man grabs a chair, hauls it to Sam and resolutely climbs up on it in front of Sam while deep-purring. Sam recognises him from photos in Raff’s office hideaway. “Damn, kitto, you're a tall one. You sure ate your veggies as a kit," he says while holding out a hand and offering his neck for scenting.

Sam chuckles as he shakes hands. “I take it you didn't?" he jokes.

“Damn straight, I didn't. I fed them to the dog."

Raff rolls his eyes. "We didn't _have_ a dog. You either foisted them off on our plates or rolled them in under the cupboard when father and Amara weren't looking. Where they then moulded and grew sentient, resisting cleaning once they were found.”

“He still does that,” Luci jokes (Sam hopes.) with a snigger.

“Whatever works," the man says with a cheeky wink. Sam scents him and realizes that this is Gabe. Something that is confirmed a second later. “Name's Gabriel, but call me Gabe.”

“Sam,” Sam answers scenting Gabe. Gabe’s deep-purr gives him goosebumps. The guy has the same type of energy as Dean - positive and high spirited with a lot of confidence behind it. Sam likes it.

“Oooh! I know!” Gabe fumbles in his pocket and pulls up an unopened lollipop, holding it out to Sam. “Here. This is the best I can do right now. It's banana toffee flavour. Or you can have this if you prefer? It said grape on the wrapper,” he says and holds up the one he’d been sucking on as well. Sam smiles in bemusement at the two lollipops. ‘It said grape on the wrapper’ is such a specific word choice that indicates that perhaps the makers of the neon purple thing Gabe’s been sucking on might not really know what a grape is and how they’re supposed to taste.

“Gabe. You know the rules. No candy before dinner,” a fourth voice chides. Sam turns his head to see that Michael has entered the private dining room, recognising him straight away by his scent. He might have chided Gabe but his lips are hooked in a smile and his warm eyes are locked on Sam. Mike is handsome in the way photo models in Progressive magazines are handsome. 

Sam, feeling like a little shit, takes Gabe’s ‘grape’ lollipop and sucks it into his mouth. Gabe chirps in delight, Luci sniggers, and Raff chuckles.

Michael grins, holds up his hands in defeat and inclines his head.

Sam removes the corn syrup and food colouring flavoured lollipop from his mouth. “It’s nice to finally get to meet you in person, Mike. Dean’s said a lot of good things about you. And don’t be too hard on Gabe. The way I heard it, it was candy that got us on a pack date to begin with.” He briefly winks at Gabe before looking back at Mike.

Gabe points at him with a big grin. “Oh, I like you.”

“I liked him first,” Luci mutters under his breath, making Sam chuckle when Mike makes his way over for proper introductions.

After having shaken hands and scented each other Mike speaks. “Where’s your brother?”

“He’ll be here soon. I wanted to get here before him so I could see his face when he understands what pack he’s about to date.”

“You didn’t tell him?” Mike asks and Sam shakes his head with a grin. He’s feeling a lot more relaxed now. Having Raff and Luci there as a mostly silent support helps. And a man standing on a chair to talk to you while offering you candy is anything but intimidating. Even the surrounding―a private dining room in the back of a very luxurious restaurant―isn’t making him uneasy. Mike chuckles. “You’re as bad as my brothers. I guess we’ll―”

“You must be Samuel Winchester.” The voice from behind has Gabe jumping off the chair, shoving the banana toffee lollipop into Sam’s pocket and putting the chair back by the table, as well as the rest of them standing up straighter.

Sam turns around to face the speaker and suddenly his belly is full of nervous butterflies and his mouth goes dry. If the scent hadn’t given the man away―so alike his sons’, yet completely different―his looks and demeanour certainly do. This is the Patriarch of the Williams pack; a man Sam knows he’ll feel the compulsion to be with no matter what personal chemistry they’ve got. A war veteran like dad, a politician, the ultimate power in the Williams Corp and influential in the whole country. He looks it. Tall, perhaps taller than Lucifer if not at equal height, sharp-eyed and relaxed, carrying himself with an air of composed pride and grace. They’re all wearing tailored suits but unlike his sons, he’s wearing a three-piece. It’s accessorized with a golden chained pocket watch, a tie pin, a thick wristwatch that can be glimpsed by his cuff, a lapel pin and a signet ring. His dress declares him powerful within any designation's standard, flaunting his riches to the world.

He's buff. Sam hadn't expected that. He should have. The picture he'd seen of Marlon in Raphael's hideout in his office had shown Marlon as a young man dressed up for guerilla warfare. Marlon is no longer a young man yet Raff has told Sam that his father still drills them in hand to hand combat, forcing them to keep in shape. He's been described as a lead by example type of man so Sam should have expected the broad shoulders and chest. He's flaring a gorgeous lilac that shows that Raff and Luci's rare colours definitely comes from his side of the family. His hair is brown somewhere between Gabe's caramel and Mike's dark brown, silver at the temples.

Lucifer suddenly starts purring soothingly - a testament to how much his nerves translate to his scent. This is exactly why he should have waited and arrived with Dean. Dean takes one whiff or a man like Marlon and deems him an equal. Sam fights an impulse to bow his head and lick his lips in submission. Dean’s never insecure about who he is, what he does, or his leadership abilities. He’s always confident and never intimidated by anything. Dean’s been a leader since he was a kit playing with other kits. It’s ingrained in his whole personality and forced to bloom full force when he became a Main at such an early age. But Sam? He’d always been content with letting someone else lead while he has his mind stuck on his own assigned tasks, reading, or pondering around the mysteries of life. So meeting a Main or a Patriarch he doesn’t see an equal, he sees a superior.

“Y-yes, Sir,” he says and tries to act confident, probably failing by miles and wondering what the hell he’s going to do with the sticky lollipop he’s holding in his hand. It’d probably make a bad impression if he stuck it back into his mouth. Even worse if he dropped it on the floor. “But I’m called Sam.”

Marlon makes his way over to Sam and stops at arm’s length offering his hand to shake. “A pleasure to finally meet you, Sam. I’m Marlon Williams, the Patriarch of this pack.” When Sam shakes hands with him Marlon tilts his head to offer his neck for a scenting, dropping Sam’s hand as soon as Sam steps in closer. Marlon smells really good but holds nowhere near the same allure as his sons. He remains passive, hands behind his back, until Sam leans back and offers his own neck to scent. Even then he only sniffs briefly without touching before retaking the arm’s length distance. “Why don’t we sit down and have a drink while we wait for Dean to show up?” he offers with an amicable smile and gestures invitingly towards the long table.

“Okay,” Sam agrees and makes the questionable choice of putting the sticky piece of candy discreetly in his pocket.

Marlon pulls out a chair for Sam next to the end of the table and waits until Sam’s sat down until he himself sits down by the short end. It seems to be the signal everyone has waited for. Gabe says ‘I’ll go keep a lookout for Dean,’ and leaves the room while Mike sits down across from Sam with Luci beside him and Raphael sits beside Sam. “What are you having, son?” Marlon asks.

“I don’t know what’s good here. Some Cognac, perhaps?” Alcohol might help battle his nerves. He was about to suggest whiskey but is afraid that would make him sound too boorish. Luci’s still keeping up his soothing purr on his behalf. Maybe it’s a good thing Luci didn’t sit down beside him or he might have done something embarrassing like curl away to hide his face by Luci’s chest. Luci smells like his mate, after all.

Marlon snaps his fingers and a server that had been standing in wait by the wall comes to take their orders. Marlon rattles off a brand of Cognac Aze doesn’t serve. After the server has taken everyone’s order and left Sam decides to try to make conversation instead of sitting quietly like a skittish mouse. “I wasn’t expecting you to be here, Sir,” he says.

“I wasn’t planning to. I wanted to wait to introduce myself until after you’ve gotten to know my boys since they’re the ones looking for mates. But then your brother demanded all our pack members were to be present and I’d would be bad manners to deny him that,” Marlon answers pleasantly.

Sam’s heart flutters hopefully. “All pack members? Ours too? Is―?” He quickly looks around to count the plates on the table and deflates in disappointment.

Sam’s sudden shift to excited and then disappointed doesn’t pass by Marlon by. “Are you expecting someone aside from Dean?”

“Apparently not. Look. It’s nothing.”

Marlon purses his lips thoughtfully for a beat before switching the subject. “Very well. I’ve been told you are going to college this fall. Have you given any thought to what you want to be?” he asks as servers come to serve their drinks like silent ghosts, ignored by everyone but Sam.

“Not. Not really,” Sam stutters. Raphael’s hand lands on his thigh in silent support. They’re all looking at him with open curiosity. He feels like he’s under a spotlight and is vastly grateful for both Luci’s purr and Raff’s hand touching him. He takes a sip of the cognac to win some time. The scary thing with meeting a Main or Patriarch is that you know that they weigh and measure you to see if you’re good enough. Sam remembers how selective dad had been when there had been aspirants for their pack. There had been a couple over the years that had tried to join them and been turned down for reasons only dad and later on, Dean too had been privy to. From Sam’s Juvie perspective they’d been nice, good people that mysteriously didn’t measure up. “I want to help people somehow? I dunno, like a doctor? Or, or, law enforcement? Or perhaps a scientist of some sort.” He huffs in self-deprecating amusement. “Mostly right now I just want to know how things work. But we don’t know if I get in yet. Dick Roman helped us with my scholarship application and―” 

Lucifer laughs, both Raff and Mike grins, and Marlon’s lip quirk upward in amusement. “If Richard Roman helped you it’s safe to say you got in. He’s a very shrewd man and I’m yet to see him fail to bend the world to his will when he applies himself. You can expect an acceptance letter sometime in the middle of the next week if I remember things correctly,” Marlon tells him. “As for the professions you’re considering, I’ll warn you that the law enforcement is very corrupt and a large part of people within the police take bribes.”

“How do you know?”

“Because we own them,” Mike chips in with a lopsided, self-satisfied smirk.

“Naturally not all of them, but enough take bribes that if you join the force based on idealistic reasons you might find yourself discouraged quickly,” Marlon adds and swirls his cognac before taking a sip.

“Oh. Um. Thanks for the warning, I guess.” Marlon reminds Sam a bit of Dick but with a major difference. Both move and talk with a pleasant demeanor and both have a natural air of power. The difference is that Dick is passive, stepping in to steer conversation when needed and is masterful at making people relax as he proved at Charlie's. Marlon on the other hand, is active even in his lack of movement. He owns the room since the moment he entered. He's a powerhouse and he knows it. And yet he hasn't actually done anything to dominate. In fact, his behaviour has been the opposite of exerting any kind of pressure on Sam. The distance when they greeted each other, waiting to scent Sam until he was invited to do so and then making it a brief, touchless scenting, refraining from deep-purring. All those things could have removed pressure but don't because of his sheer presence. 

“Are you planning to live on campus while you study?” Marlon asks.

“I, uh, I haven’t thought about it? A full ride would include boarding, I suppose. But, uh, it seems unnecessary when I live in the same city?”

“That’s right. Live at home,” Lucifer says.

“ _Luci,_ ” Marlon reproves. Luci glowers and sinks down sulkily on his chair.

“You should live on campus,” Mike states. “We all did, despite living fairly close. There are many advantages to it and Luci’s just being a jealous bitch about it because of the unjudging, self-exploratory hedonism that you come across in college.”

“Don’t pay too much mind to that, Sam,” Marlon bids him. “If you choose to reaffirm the mating bond with Lucifer you’ll see that his jealousy goes down to a much more acceptable level.”

Lucifer rolls his eyes but keeps pouting. 

Sam thinks not wanting your mate to have sex with others is an acceptable level but doesn’t say anything. After all, if he’s in Heat and separated from his mate he might no longer be so happy about restrictions to getting relief. “So what are the advantages to living on campus?” he asks instead and sips his drink. What he really likes to do is down it and order another one or three. Raphael’s thumb rubs soothing circles on his thigh so he puts his hand under the table to interlace their fingers seeking further grounding.

Raff answers. “You get more time to study, have an easier time of making friends with connections that might prove useful in the future, and it’s a safe way to practise forming new, temporary packs as well as siderunning.”

“That’s right,” Mike fills in. “Even if there are no other Packrunners on campus―”

“There always are,” Luci interrupts.

Mike continues without breaking stride. “―the general attitude and living conditions in the dorms and Houses are enough like a pack that the difference is negligible. College is as much a place for academic studies as it is learning how to be a self-sufficient adult.”

“I hadn’t thought of that. That makes sense.” Sam is struggling to make conversation. He berates himself for being nervous. It’s not like any one of them are awkward or judgemental. Marlon is courteous, asking open-ended questions that would allow him to expand and talk about himself or interests of his. Like what he wanted to be after college for an instance. He could have talked about how wildly fascinated he is by biology, history, culture and behaviour and how all those things intersect. Or he could have talked about how much he admired his parents for their service in the military and how that has led to him wanting to help people someway. Or any other of the million things that make him want to study. But he’s dry-mouthed and it feels like he’s being interviewed and _where the hell is Dean?_ He should have been here by now!

* * *


	3. The Scent of Joy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To Sam's great relief, Dean finally shows up. His relief is short-lived.

* * *

Dean spots Gabe outside the restaurant talking to the bouncer so he sticks his fingers into his mouth to wolf whistle to get Gabe’s attention.

Gabe turns around and grins broadly when he spots Dean. “Dean! You made it!” He says something to the bouncer and then starts walking towards Dean with a spring to his step.

Dean grins and elongates his stride. “Sure did. I―” A breeze carries Gabe's scent to his nose stopping him mid-stride. “ _No._ You're shitting me?! You're a Williams?!"

“Yup. That's a bad thing?” Gabe's still walking towards him grinning but Dean can smell the sudden anxiety.

“Yeah, no it ain't. I just didn't expect that. I've been seeing Mike and he never fucking mentioned he ran in a pack. Here I was fretting I’d have to choose between him and you,” Dean says smelling Gabe’s anxiety dissipate. “Come here.” He holds his arms open for a hug and Gabe jogs the last stretch.

“In that case, choose me,” Gabe jokes cheekily. “I’m conveniently travel sized. When I fly I just grab someone’s hand and board as their carry on luggage.” 

Dean laughs and sweeps him up in a hug putting one hand under Gabe's ass just to feel that awesome tail wag inside the pants, spins them around and presses Gabe against the wall to burrow his nose in by his neck. “Yeah? They stuff you in the overhead compartment too?” he asks as Gabe wraps his legs around his waist to help hold himself up. He doesn’t give Gabe time to answer. “Fuck, you smell good. Can’t believe I missed out on this while in Heat.”

“Likewise, bucko,” Gabe answers voice muffled since he’s got his own face smushed into Dean’s throat. “Damn, you’re a lot less restrained with your affections than your little brother is,” he states with a grin when Dean starts marking him up affectionately.

“Yeah, well, I know you.” They’ve spoken on the phone several times a week and it’s a relief and a joy to finally meet in person again. He huffs in amusement. “This kinda pops my theory that Sam accidentally mated your brother.”

“Oh, no. Luci’s mating bond is still intact. Gave me one hell of a surprise when I smelled it. I came here straight from the airport and went in the back way. Father told me to go get Lu― _Woah_. Settle down, cowboy. What’s the matter?” Gabe gets distressed by Dean’s sudden anger.

“Sonnova bitch knew! Sam _knew_ and didn’t fucking tell me!” Dean drops Gabe back on the ground to pace a couple of steps back and forth snarling. It’s lucky for Sam he isn’t here when Dean finds out or he’d been subjected to a very public slapdown. 

Gabe purrs soothingly and closes in towards Dean with his head lowered, licking his lips. He stops right in front of Dean cutting off his angry pacing. Dean stops and wraps his arms around Gabe again, putting his chin on the crown of Gabe’s head. “I ain’t mad at you, you hear? I’m mad at my brother for withholding this.”

“That’s good, because right now I’m getting a really weird mix of anger, joy, and sadness from your scent.”

Dean huffs in amusement, quelling his anger somewhat. “The joy is at seeing you again.”

“Good reason. Great reason! You’re definitely onto something here, kitto!” Gabe declares making Dean laugh despite being angry at Sam. “So what’s the sadness about?”

“Got bad news. Don’t worry about it. It’s inter-pack related.”

"If you say so, kitto. I'd offer you something to perk you up but I'm afraid I gave my last lollipop to Sam.”

“I'd rather have a drink. So if you can make that happen I'll consider myself perked up.” 

"Let’s head inside and you can have whatever you want.”

“Yeah… Hey, what’s up with the tie?”

“You don’t like it? I’ve got three more in my pockets. One with llamas holding umbrellas, one with neon coloured clowns, and one with a pegacorn vomiting rainbows with swear words in all kinds of different languages as a background. You want me to change?”

Dean giggles. “No, man. You do you. But why the extra ties?”

“Because father always tells me to change tie and his exasperated look when I do, is priceless.”

Dean laughs. Gabe’s a hoot and talking to him on the phone doesn’t do him justice. They still remain standing, holding each other for several minutes before they head inside. It goes a long way to quench down both anger at Sam and the sadness over Dick, leaving mostly joy and excitement.

* * *

Gabe leads him through the luxurious restaurant where the waiters wear tuxedos and the waitresses black, sparkly dresses. High overhead great crystal chandeliers sparkle and all the cutlery on the table is made from silver. He’s taken to the back where there are three doors that Gabe explains lead to private dining rooms for guests that can afford privacy. That’s a nice surprise since it allows for open primal behaviour without having to worry about freaking out other guests.

Gabe opens one of the doors and Dean can smell Sam’s anxiety before he even enters. At the table inside, he can see Sam, Lucifer, Mike, and a handsome older gentleman that judging by the age must be the Patriarch. (Hadn’t Mike said his dad’s name is Marlon?) There is supposed to be one more brother but apparently, he isn’t here yet. Gabe dispels the mystery of the missing brother the moment he steps inside the room. “Where’s Bunny?”

“Bathroom,” Lucifer answers and scrambles to stand the moment he spots Dean. Sam turns to see Dean and his anxiety dissipates the moment they lay eyes on each other.

Dean points at Sam reproachfully. “You’re in trouble for this. Don’t think I won’t give you a whooping, cuz I will.” Sam―the asshole―bends his head and licks his lips but the deeply drilled dimples give away the withheld amusement.

Mike and Lucifer come around to greet him. Mike gets a hug and an affectional marking. He burrows his nose into Luci’s throat when it's offered and inhales deeply, taking in the faint but definitely existing mating bond to Sam. They all smell so good happy little butterflies dance in Dean’s body. The way they deep-purr and show off their gorgeous flares isn’t exactly putting him off either. Once Dean’s greeted Mike and Luci they step aside for their Patriarch, giving Dean a proper view before greeting him.

“ _Hot damn,_ Papa! You sure know how to dress,” Dean coos. “But I’m gonna have to call you out on that bullshit straight away,” he says and points between the pocket watch chain and the wristwatch. “You in the habit of being late or something?”

Behind him, Gabe sniggers. Sam hitches a breath then hides his face behind one of his huge hands in mortification. Hah. Serves him right.

Marlon’s eyes widen minutely in surprise before his lips quirk upward. His scent turns pleased with a hint of annoyance. “Not at all. They’re purely for decoration. As long as I can see daylight I don’t need a watch to tell time,” he answers.

Dean pulls down the corners of his lips in a facial shrug. “Alright. It sure looks good, I’ll give you that.” He tilts his head and offers his neck, giving it a pat. “Come here. Don’t be shy,” he bids.

There’s another spike of annoyance mixed into the pleased scent of him, but nevertheless, Marlon walks up to Dean and puts his nose to his neck, inhaling deeply. 

“Whatcha say, Papa? Think that’s something you could get into?” Dean says quietly with a smirk teething cheekily.

Marlon straightens up and offers his own neck. “I’m not here for me. It’s my sons who are looking for mates.”

“That’s a no, huh.” Dean leans in to smell the Patriarch, rubbing the tip of his nose against Marlon’s neck gland to make it secrete. “A shame,” he breathes against the neck, feeling goosebumps form where his lips brush the skin. The scent of budding arousal reaches his nostrils proving the no to be a yes, making him smirk. Marlon smells fucking fantastic just like his sons. Different, like another verse in the same song―the same bass pumping in the background but different words being sung. He flicks his tongue out to taste before he leans back to seek eye contact again only to find that Marlon’s flare is of a much higher intensity now. He remains standing too close when he offers his hand to the Patriarch, matching the intensity of the flare and trading the cheeky smirk for a much more serious expression. “Dean Winchester of the Kansas Winchesters, Main to the New York cell.” 

Marlon takes his hand in a firm (but not crushing) grip. “Marlon Williams of the Long Island Williamses, Patriarch to the Core.” When he speaks Dean can see that he’s teething his canines.

For a moment they stand like that sizing each other up with gazes locked. Dean can smell the tension in the room, Sam’s in particular. But Sam hasn’t been present in any pack negotiations like Dean has. There are other packs in Kansas and sometimes they’d had dealings discussing trade or possible pack related trouble in the state. As a Main, Dean had learned that this moment is crucial, squaring up against each other, Main/Main, Patriarch/Patriarch, or Main/Patriarch to establish equality. Granted, standing this close isn’t necessary. That’s another type of challenge - aggressive flirting. Dean decides he likes that Marlon neither folds nor puffs himself up, so he relaxes and grins. “Marlon, huh? So what do they call you? Marl? Lonny?” he asks as he lets go of Marlon’s hand.

“Marlon. I don’t have a nickname.”

“Huh… Guess I’ll just call you Papa then,” Dean states then looks around for a server, snapping his fingers on one hand while Marlon’s hiding a burst of annoyance behind a polite smile, his sons’ smell and look like they might burst from held back mirth while Sam’s mortified. The server hastens to pay attention. “Yo. I want a three finger shot of whiskey. Don’t care if it’s moonshine or if it’s your best, I ain’t planning on savouring it, okay?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good. And I want one of whatever Papa’s drinking.” Dean tenses up for a beat. “Wait. You’re not drinking wine are you?” he asks Marlon and puts his nose by Marlon’s mouth to sniff. “Nope. We’re good.” Back to the server he says, “So one brain-fryer and one of what he’s having. You got that? Don’t look at him, I’m the one ordering,” he adds when the server glances at Marlon. Marlon’s scent loses all traces of annoyance and instead turns fiercely pleased even if Sam might be dying by the table.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good.” Dean gives the server a friendly pat on the shoulder and turns his attention back to Marlon. “So now we’re just waiting for Bunny, huh? Who’s―” A familiar man enters the room freezing the words on Dean’s tongue, jerking the ground from under his feet and sending his heart into a frenzied beat. “No…” he breathes. “You’re _shitting me?_ You’re fucking shitting me?!”

Raphael stops to stare at him with an expression of controlled happiness and a scent of elation and anxiety. “Dean. A pleasure to see you again,” he says.

Dean’s forgotten how to breathe. There might as well be nobody else in the room as he numbly pushes Marlon out of the way to walk towards Raphael. “You. You mean to tell me I’ve been working in the same building as you for months…? _No._ ” His eyes are wide open and he can smell the saline before it even starts to sting his eyes. He reaches for Raphael who opens his arms to welcome the hug. Dean clings to him, burrowing into his scent with cheeks aching from smiling so hard. “ _Fuck me_ , I can’t fucking believe it. This is fucking impossible. And you didn’t even tell me you’re a Packrunner!” All the anxiety went away from Raphael’s scent the moment Dean reached for him, leaving only the same elation Dean’s feeling. “You can scent me. It’s okay,” he says since strangely, Raphael isn’t.

“I’m partially noseblind,” Raphael admits quietly. “I have trouble smelling anything unless someone’s in Heat or Rut.”

“That explains why you acted so weird,” Dean says pulling away far enough to beam at Raphael. “Fuck, your flare’s so pretty. You’re only partially noseblind? Then siphon me if you want.”

* * *

Sam had been so relieved when Dean came. That relief hadn’t lasted long. Dean for some mysterious reason had decided that it would be a great idea to act like a friggin country muppet _and_ provoke the Patriarch while he was at it. Oh sure, the Williams brothers had found it hilarious. Dean had just waltzed in, taken one look at Marlon and gone ‘So you own the room, do you? Yeah, no, not anymore, you ain’t.’ Sam doesn’t get it. Why would Dean pick a fight? Isn’t he shooting himself in the foot? At least he isn’t dressed like a lumberjack or Sam would legit have died then and there. Marlon’s reaction isn’t much clearer to Sam. Pleased and annoyed and slightly turned on. Why would Dean ruin everything by annoying the Patriarch??!

Sam would most likely have whimpered in mortification if Dean called Marlon ‘Papa’ one more time. But then Raphael came back from the toilet and saved the day. Dean’s reaction to seeing Raff again gives Sam’s life meaning. Hell, he’s barely keeping from crying because those two sappy bastards are reeking of pure joy and Dean keeps blinking tears from his eyes. It’s been in his scent since the moment he laid eyes on Raff.

There's a special scent you only have when an event cracks down every wall you have, down to your most vulnerable core, when something big and unexpected happens that you never dared to hope for. When the feeling of happiness is too big and undiluted that you barely can grasp it's real. The scent is very near the scent of sorrow. It's how Dean smells and how Raff smells now after Dean told him to siphon. Oddly enough, Luci smelt like that too for a fraction of a second when Dean told Raff to siphon, before his scent became that impossible jumble. Marlon’s purring his contentment and _everyone_ smells happy. Mike even has to dry his eyes. Raff and Dean are talking quietly now―too quietly to overhear―while the rest of them sit down to wait. Nobody says a word. Nobody wants to spoil the moment. Even the server waits patiently with Dean’s drinks on a tray.

It takes minutes before they let go of each other and separate. Dean’s grinning so broadly you can see his gums. Sam can’t remember when he saw such unadulterated joy on Dean’s face last. Back when Cas was alive, perhaps? Now at least Dean’s going to stop acting like a foulmouthed brat and try to make a good impression. That’s going to be a relief.

“Sir? Your drinks?” the server finally says holding the tray towards Dean.

“Oh. Right.” Dean grabs the whiskey and downs it in one go, followed by a full-body shudder. “Damn. You took me on my word on the moonshine, huh?”

“But, Sir, you said―”

Dean sniggers and claps him on the shoulder. “Chill. You did good. Thanks, man. I needed that.” He grabs the remaining drink from the tray with a wink at the server and walks towards the table.

Sam was wrong. Dean’s apparently determined to act like something sticky under the sole of your shoe.

* * *

“...almost six years ago. I’d forgotten what he smelled like except that he smelled like everything good in the world. So dad asked me why I was so determined to go to New York and you’d never believe the bullshit I came up with to keep from admitting that I was going cross-country to search for this fucker right here.” Dean points at Raff while he talks then holds up his hands, palms out. “Not that I’m admitting it now either. Hell no. No, I’m too proud to say out loud that I crossed seven states for the sake of an Alpha I’d only spent one Heat with years earlier.” There’s laughter all around the table. Dean grins, sips his fine cognac and goes on turning to Luci who’s sitting beside him. “And the letter you wrote? Damn, but you’ve got a way with words.”

Luci frowns in confusion. “Sam said you burned it?”

“Damn straight, I did,” Dean chuckles. “It was so funny and relatable I had to share it with my mate. So I wrote a note for him that I put in your envelope then salted and burned it all to make sure he’d get it properly.”

“You did what?” Sam asks in surprise. “Since when do you write Cas?”

“Since I came back to life after his death. What? You thought I…” Dean throws his head back cackling in malicious glee. “ _Man_. You must have fretted your ass off! Fucking serves you right after keeping this from me.” He looks back at Luci. “But I gotta admit, I’ve trouble tying that letter together with that douchewad move you pulled in your office. Not cool, man. Not cool.”

Luci groans and melts into a half-lying slouch in his chair looking miserable. “I didn’t do it on purpose!” He protests. “I was looking at you when I was reaching for my coffee cup and I missed…” The last comes out as a barely audible pouted mumble.

“Say what now?” Dean asks with his lips twitching.

Luci takes a deep breath and looks up at him with a shamefaced pout. “I missed. I accidentally pushed the cup off the table.”

Dean blinks at him with eyes sparkling in amusement before he once again bursts out laughing. He’s not the only one laughing at Luci but Sam wishes he wouldn’t. If Dean could just… tone it down a little. Not be so loud and profane. Not be so much… _Dean._

And it gets worse. It gets worse when they’re eating the starter and Marlon asks, “So, Dean… You were the Main of your birth pack?”

“Yeah. When dad smelled I was gonna present as an Omega there was never any question about me and Cas getting mated. But Cas was dying and we all knew it. So dad made Cas Patriarch. Lucky he did because when Cas died I fucking ceased to be. Lost my scent, my motivation to live, and damn near lost my ability to breathe. If I hadn’t been part of a pack I wouldn’t be alive today.”

“And after you came out of your depression… how long did you keep running with your birth pack?” Marlon asks smoothly.

Dean looks as if he’s about to answer easily when he suddenly tenses up and flares, locking Marlon with a sharp gaze while putting down his cutlery. His lips are curved upward but Sam knows that to be a warning look. “Too long, but not ‘ _that_ ’ long, if you get what I’m sayin’?” he answers, making air quotes around ‘that’ and smelling of anger.

He and Marlon remain still with their gazes locked making Sam’s skin feel too tight with worry. Why does Dean keep having to pick fights with Marlon? Lucky they’re sitting so far away from each other or who knows what would have happened.

“Was it hard, the first period of time after the depression?” Mike asks attempting to defuse the tension. 

Dean holds Marlon’s gaze for another beat before the Patriarch looks away to pick up his drink. “Yeah. It was,” Dean answers, chipper attitude shuttering back down. “I had a friend who’d say, ‘Cheer up. It could be worse. You could be stuck down in a deep hole underground filled with water’.” Sam’s trying very hard to figure out who he’s talking about when Dean pauses with a sad sort of smile. “I know he means well…”

Marlon snorts into his drink and starts laughing.

It takes the rest of them a beat to catch on. Sam groans, Gabe and Mike snigger, and Luci scowls like he’s personally offended. “ _No._ That was bad!”

Puns. 

Sam frigging _hates_ when Dean gets like this. He dreads it. It’s bad enough when he gets like this at home, but amongst other people? That can _hear him_? 

It gets worse.

“...visiting Sam at work, right?”

Sam knows instantly that he’s lying and tenses up.

Dean goes on. “...And in walks this guy with a slab of asphalt that he slaps onto the counter. So he calls Sam to him and goes ‘One beer for me and one for the road!’”

Marlon once again laughs like it’s the funniest thing ever. Sam chirps unhappily while the others chuckle aside from Luci who can’t seem to decide if he’s mad at Dean for telling such bad jokes or at himself for finding them funny.

Dean looks at Sam. “You know,” he says to the room in general. “I don’t always tell dad jokes. ...But when I do, he laughs.”

“ _Dean_ ,” Sam says ignoring the collective sniggers in favour of bitchfacing his big brother.

Dean smirks and points at Sam across the table. “My little brother is mad at me right now. He thinks I’m being embarrassing.” He looks around to meet the gazes of everyone around the table. “He wants me to act properly. Not to swear. Show my good side.” Dean looks back at Sam again. “I know you do, Sammy. I get why. But I’m not here to make a proper impression. These guys are my bosses. If they want to know if I can fake the downcast gaze of a Conservative O, or charm myself into fooling Progs I’m one of them, or talk properly with no profanity, then all they have to do is ask my supervisors. I’m sure they already have.” He casts a quick glance at Marlon getting a small nod in confirmation before he goes on. “Unlike you, I’m not here in the capacity of an Omega hoping to find a mate. I’m not trying to figure out if these guys are fit to knot me. All of them are. If a mateship was all I was considering it wouldn’t be all that tricky. I can honestly say that I would seriously consider a mateship with every single one of these guys. But, Sam, I’m here in the capacity of a Main trying to discern if this pack is good enough to join forces with, which still is under debate.”

To his side, he can smell that what Dean’s saying is making Marlon very pleased.

“But why?” Sam asks. “If we like them…” It’s almost unnaturally quiet when all the Williams brothers focus on Dean curiously.

Marlon smirks and leans back in his chair, stretching his legs out under the table. “Not all packs have the same order and dynamics,” he answers in Dean’s stead.

“Exactly. Should these guys be too strict and ‘proper’,” Dean makes air quotes, “they wouldn’t be compatible with us, if you get what I’m sayin’?” He winces slightly after that sentence but Sam doesn’t know why. “When I come home from pretending to be something I’m not at work, I don’t want to pretend in my home too. I need to know that these guys can see beyond the swear words and plaid shirts. If they can laugh at my jokes―”

Sam snorts. “Yeah. At least one of them has a sense of humour as questionable as yours,” he says before casting a glance at Marlon. “No offense, Sir,” he says and scoots his chair closer to Raphael’s, away from Marlon.

It gains laughter from all around the table, Marlon included. 

“All I’m saying, is,” Dean goes on with a smirk, “I need to be myself and see if they can handle that. It’s looking promising. But one thing bugs me. I already know from Lucifer’s description that Y'all got your own rooms―”

“My description? When did I tell you that?” Luci asks in complete bewilderment.

“By phone. You―” Dean starts but cuts off when Gabe covers his mouth with a hand trying to withhold a snigger and Raphael doing the same by sucking on his lips looking at the table. Dean waves off Lucifer’s increasingly suspicious bewilderment. “It doesn’t matter. What I’d really like to know is why? Do you all sleep alone? Cuz I gotta tell you, that ain’t flying with me.”

“We don’t sleep alone,” Mike answers. “It’s true that we’ve got our own rooms where we can seek solitude for whatever reason. But it’s very rare for us to not spend the night together with at least one other brother. The only one who mostly sleeps alone is father.”

Dean’s face goes soft as he looks towards Marlon. “Yeah…? Your mate and brother still keep you company when you sleep?” he asks, voice gentle. For a brief second both Marlon and Dean smell of faded sorrow, making Sam ache inside and miss Cas. But Marlon doesn’t answer so Dean nods as if he’d gotten a confirmation and looks at Sam. “Right. So what I’m saying is, don’t get yourself worked up about me acting like I do. If all goes well we might end up spending the rest of our lives with these guys.” Then he grins and addresses the rest of the table. “In Sam’s defense, I get to hear him ask ‘ _Why are you like this?!_ ’ on a weekly basis. So that moue of disapproval of his ain’t nothing new.”

“Yeah, but. Tentacles, Dean. I mean, _come on_. There’s something wrong with you,” Sam protests holding back a snigger.

“Hey, _he_ started it,” Dean exclaims with a huge grin and mischief sparkling in his eyes as he points to Marlon. “Isn’t that right, Mike? Your old man was the one to suggest shifters with tentacles, right?”

“Yes,” Mike sniggers.

“ _See?_ I’m innocent. All I’m saying that it could be hot.”

“Tentacles, huh? Yeah, I can see the allure,” Gabe agrees and waggles his eyebrows.

“Thank you! You get me!”

It sets off a slightly bizarre but also hilarious discussion of who is pro-tentacles and who isn’t, what ‘new and exciting’ appendages would be of interest if tentacles aren’t on the table. Even Sam finally relaxes. Marlon is mostly quiet, scent content while he observes the increasingly animate interactions around the table. Raff doesn’t say much either, but he’s still participating actively in the discussion while his scent remains saturated with happiness. Gabe and Dean are the loudest ones, closely followed by Luci. Mike’s way of responding depends on who’s talking. If it’s Sam or Dean he’s attentive and interested, asking follow up questions, if it’s his brothers he is a lot more dramatic, teasing or exasperated.

“Excuse me, Sirs? Which one of you is Dean Winchester?” A server pokes their head in and interrupts them.

“That’ll be me.”

“There’s an O outside who says he’s late for a pack date. He said you’re his Main and that he’s expected, but I’ve been informed only seven peop―”

Dean makes a shrill noise of excitement and stands up with a burst of joy in his scent. “He came?” he says in wonder. “Holy shit, yeah. He’s with us. I thought the fucker wasn’t going to show.” He snaps his fingers and points at the short end of the table next to himself, switching into Main-mode between one breath and another. “Set the table here,” he commands the server. “And bring in a glass of wine. Some red frou-frou shit that connoisseurs like, no swill. And one of the cognacs I had. That was good enough for him. And refill the pitchers of water. I don’t know if he’s eaten yet so bring in a starter so he can catch up,” he rattles off before he turns to the table and focuses on Marlon. “We have a new pack member that will be joining us. I take it you won’t have a problem with that?” He phrases it like a question but his demeanour says that he’s still in Main-mode and the question is only allowed to have one answer.

Marlon inclines his head with a pleasant little smile and a makes a sweeping gesture with his palm out as if to say ‘stage is yours’. Sam catches a faint hint of annoyance in his scent. Luci perks up and pays rapt attention to Marlon, but apparently Sam and he are the only one who notice at all and Sam’s too busy getting excited about what this means to get nervous about what the Patriarch thinks. 

“I’ll be right back,” Dean declares and strides towards the door.

“Dean!” Sam prompts.

Dean stops to throw a look at Sam and jerk his head towards the door before he continues walking. “Excuse me,” Sam bids the Williamses, then gets up to jog after Dean.

* * *

Dick's standing outside of the restaurant looking pleasantly relaxed but reeking of anxiety and fear. He smiles and straightens his posture when he sees Dean exit. Dean's heart's hammering in exhilarated excitement. He walks straight up to Dick and cups his cheeks with a face-splitting grin. “You beautiful sonnova bitch, you _came_. I didn't think you'd come!”

Dick smiles wider and covers one of Dean's hands with one of his own. “That stood clear to me, dear. If you hadn’t been quite so quick to hang up I would have clarified my statement. Alas…”

“Yeah, well, you know how it is. The things we fear the most are the things we’re most ready to accept as the truth. And, _fuck_ , but I was terrified you’d say no.” He switches his grip to hug Dick instead, rubbing his temple and ear gland against Dick’s cheek and neck, getting the affectionate gesture returned.

Sam suddenly shows up wrapping his gargantuan form around both of them with a happy chirping. “Does this mean you’re one of us? For real this time?” he asks excitedly like the overgrown man-puppy he is. He’s rubbing his temple gland atop Dick’s head, adding his own marking, not waiting for the answer.

Dean can feel Dick shaking as he laughs silently, joy mixing with the smell of fear and anxiety. “I suppose I am, yes.”

“And-and, that means I can siphon you, right?” Sam asks exuberantly.

This time Dick chuckles audibly. “That would be a requirement, would it not? But I believe it’ll have to wait until we are in private. It wouldn’t be wise to be too high and horny when we go in there. It might cloud our judgement, wouldn’t you say?”

Sam makes a high-pitched purring sound of delight, chasing away more of Dick’s anxiety. Dean steps away far enough to cup Dick’s cheeks again. “Hey. There’s no reason to be afraid. I’ve got you, okay? _We’ve_ got you.”

Dick hums noncommittally. His smile remains untouched but there’s uncertainty in his eyes. “I trust you, Dean, but I need to warn you. I’ve got a long history with the Williams family and they’ve never shown any interest in having me as part of their pack. I do not wish to ruin your chances―”

“Hey, no, none of that,” Dean says at the same time as Sam says, “Raff said you’re a friend of the family. It’s not going to be a problem.”

“Nobody’s gonna force you to mate with them if you don’t want to, okay?” Dean goes on. “If they want us as a pack to join with theirs someone who’s a friend of them won’t be a dealbreaker. And if it is, then they’ve got a dynamics I ain’t standing for and we’re better off without ‘em, you hear?”

“Yeah. Pack comes first,” Sam agrees.

“They don’t want all of us we’ll snatch Lucifer and Raphael and run for the hills,” Dean adds.

“Raphael too?” Sam asks in surprise.

“Hey. I didn’t wait six years and travel cross-country for an Alpha to just let him walk away,” Dean states.

Dick chuckles, the fear in his scent fading. “I highly doubt any of that will be necessary, dearheart.”

“Just saying. If you’re one of us, you’re one of us. We’ll work out the rest later.”

“What did your mate say?” Sam asks. Of course he has to go and be the smart one, remembering tiny not-so-insignificant details.

Dick tilts his head town to look at the ground. “He wasn’t at home and didn’t answer his phone. I wrote him a note, but…” A faint hint of sadness enters his scent. “We’ve been trying very hard to reestablish our mating bond to no avail. It’s increasingly hard for me to convince myself that we’re still mated. At the same time I’ve felt a longing for the presence of someone else.” He looks up at Dean through his lashes, his gorgeous poppy-coloured flare bleeding into his eyes. “My life has changed drastically lately. I felt it would be a mistake not to follow that longing to its source. Especially when the source begs me to.”

Dean struggles not to be overtaken by emotion for a second time today. His heart just feels _too fucking big_ in his chest. “Fuck. I love you, man,” he says and leans in for a soft kiss hoping to convey the bliss and wonder Dick’s confession brings. Apparently his joy translates to his scent strongly enough for both Sam and Dick to echo it back to him. “You ready to go inside?” he asks.

“As ready as I’ll ever be…”

* * *


	4. Dick and The Williams Pack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dick enters the dining room and gets a completely different welcome than he expects. Dean sizes up the Patriarch while the Patriarch sizes up him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is almost done. :) I'm away travelling and most of this has been written on my phone, but the next chapter has been half done since I wrote the Dick Roman story and I look forward to finally get to publish it. ^^

* * *

Dick Roman needs no introduction. The room is already a jumble of confused scents when they enter and Dean hears Gabe audibly gasp. Raphael looks downright stunned. Luci flares and deep-purrs the moment Dick steps inside and Mike flares but looks lost.

The only one who doesn't appear to be baffled is Marlon. “Ah. Richard. Welcome. I thought it might be you," he says as he stands up and goes to meet the newcomer. He takes Dick’s hand and covers it with his other. “Still, unexpected. I was informed you’d acquired the pack bond solely to manipulate a negotiation with one of my sons.” Marlon’s eyes are amused, lips quirked in a small smile.

The last traces of fear in Dick’s scent vanishes with the accusation thrown at him. “Why, Marlon, dear. I would never. You know me better than that,” he says coyly, smirking with eyes twinkling in amusement from under his lashes.

The corners of Marlon’s lips creep further upward. “Indeed. Forgive me my mistake. You’ll forever be innocent of every wrongdoing, I’m sure. I should be ashamed to think otherwise. May I be so bold as to request permission to scent you?”

“By all means, go ahead.”

Dean bites his lip paying close attention to the interaction. The two of them are evidently very familiar with each other. He can't imagine why Dick was so nervous about this. He’d said he loves Gabe dearly when assessing he’d be a good mate, Sam said Raphael had called him a friend of the family. Judging by this interaction Dick and Marlon are closer than Dean previously had cause to suspect. But then again, Dick had gone to college with Lucifer and Mike. It makes sense that he’s had time to develop a playful relationship with the Patriarch.

Marlon leans in closing his eyes and rubbing his nose against Dick’s ear gland to make it secrete, then holds his position inhaling longer than he did with Dean. Dean catches the faint stir of budding arousal from both of them. Marlon straightens back up with a pleasant smile. “Striking... But then again, I expected nothing less. I’ve always imagined your scent to be breathtaking if it ever was revealed to us.”

“Oh, shush, dear. No need to overdo it,” Dick answers coyly and mimics a light shove on Marlon’s chest. His pleased scent and pink-tinted cheeks give away that he’s not averse to the compliment.

Marlon inclines his head. “Have you eaten? Your Main took the liberty to order for you. We’ll hold off with the main course until you’ve caught up. The table has been set opposite me on the short end of the table,” he says with a gesture. “You’ll have Dean to your right and Gabe to your left. If the seating isn’t satisfactory I’m certain my sons don’t mind to reshuffle.”

“Thank you, dear. I’m famished. The seating is fine.”

Dean’s sure this is what Sam would have wanted from him. An intricate dance of pleasantries following the protocol from some classic, romantic play. It’s very much _Dick_ and highly unlike Dean. Dick and Marlon are both all about controlling themselves and their environment. That’s why Dean had to provoke Marlon. He’d seen how deferential Marlon’s sons had been after they’d greeted him. Stepping aside with slightly bowed heads, going passive to let Marlon introduce himself. That’s all very well at a pack negotiation but not if that’s the constant state of the pack. He’s getting a pretty good picture of the Patriarch. Reclusive and commanding, demanding respect from those around him, but also patient and tolerant. His sons are not in a constant state of fear of him but they are too hyper-aware of his mood for Dean’s liking. That means Dean has to make Marlon lose his temper at least once. Not tonight. No, no. That is for a one-on-one occasion. There’s no way in hell he’d allow his pack to move in with this pack before he’s seen the Patriarch’s patience evaporate into a rage.

Dick goes to take his seat and the Williams brothers all start to rise. “Please, gentlemen, no need to get up,” Dick urges them with a hand gesture, halting their movement. Sam and Dean follow suit and sit down when Dick does it and Dean’s very pleased to note that the Williams brothers smell excited about this development even if Gabe and Raphael, in particular, look dumbstruck. Lucifer’s fangs are halfway dropped, he’s flaring strongly, keeping up a persistent deep-purr for Dick.

Mike elbows Lucifer and hisses something. Lucifer frowns angrily at him. “No.”

“But you said―” Mike protests.

“I know what I said last week, but that was then and now is now. Circumstances have changed and if you don’t get that you’re a fucking moron.”

Mike draws a breath to say something but Lucifer drops full fangs and growls threateningly at him. Mike responds by doing the same.

Dean starts rumbling a soothing all-is-well to calm them down at the same time Marlon does it, naturally synching in a way that makes him feel really good about the potential future. It makes him miss Cas and dad, and to long for the day he’ll have a Patriarch to synch with on a daily basis.

The two quarreling brothers settle down after Lucifer has given Mike one last glare. Lucifer turns back towards Dick and re-up takes his deep purr with a smile. Mike gives Lucifer a surreptitious look of discontent. Dean's curious what that was about but Gabe takes the word, preventing any follow up questions. “You're really running with the Winchester pack now? _For real_?” he asks Dick with wide, excited eyes. Dean hears a repetitive, muted rustling thumping sound. It takes him a beat to realize it's Gabe's tail wagging, thumping against the backrest rustling the fabric of his pants. It would probably be inappropriate to chirp and exclaim about how damn _cute_ that is.

“Yes, dear," Dick answers with an amused smirk and takes a sip of wine.

“ _Far out_ ," Gabe enthuses.

"Would you―” Raphael clears his throat and starts again. “You've been off limits for as long as I can remember. I don't want to be presumptuous and take for granted that you would consider taking more than one mate just because you have decided to join a pack. Would you mind if we, _I_ , court you with the intention of perhaps gaining a future mateship?” 

For a moment Dick's small smirk freezes on his face. His gaze flits between the Williams brothers taking in how they're all paying rapt attention to him in wait for an answer. His scent gets a tint of anxiety and sadness closely mixed with contentment. His gaze lands on Raphael once again. “I suppose I wouldn't mind," he answers. "But would you mind explaining something to me? Why is the Main called Main and not a Matriarch? That's always confused me about packs.”

To Dean, it sounds like he's deflecting to get the spotlight away from him. That's understandable. The guy went in here thinking his presence might be a deal breaker for the pack and instead they act excited about the chance of getting to woo him. Hell, Lucifer's acting like he's the only O in the room, steadily purring with a sole focus on Dick. It pleases Dean immensely. Sam's holding hands with Raphael under the table, only letting go to eat or drink. Dean's had declarations from everyone but Marlon and Lucifer that they seek to pursue a mateship with him. But Dick went in here expecting rejection. If Lucifer keeps courting Dick specifically all night Dean will be very pleased. Plus, Dean can't forget Dick's perturbance at not having been knotted by Lucifer since it's one of the first scents he'd smelled on Dick.

“A wheel can only have one center," Marlon answers. “Except for in dire need like during wartime, a new pack is always formed the same way. Packrunners are drawn to strong Omegas showing great leadership abilities and the pack forms all by itself around her or him. It doesn’t have to be intentional like what we’re trying to achieve here by joining two bachelor packs. Neither does it have anything to do with seeking mateship. Other Omegas feel drawn to a Main same as Alphas do. That’s why it’s more common to see new or temporary bachelor Omega packs. A tragedy is, sadly, the prevailing cause for a pack to consist of only Alphas like ours do.”

“But why? Alphas can be great leaders too,” Dick asks, daintily digging into his starter with knife and fork, cutting small pieces but keeping his attention on Marlon.

Marlon shrugs. “Who’s to say? It’s the state of things.”

“Then what’s the point of having a Patriarch at all then?” Dick asks with a faint smirk on his face and a teasing glint in his eyes. Marlon’s expression never changes but he instantly gets the sting of annoyance in his scent. He’s a bossy and dominant fucker who certainly doesn’t like to get that dominance challenged. Dean withholds a snigger. Dick, at least, isn’t afraid to poke the bear.

“Balance,” Dean answers, drawing the attention to himself. “We grew up in a very equal pack where all of us had a say to some extent. Of course, when we were Juvies there were things we were kept in the dark about. No kit or Juvie should have to worry about some things. Apart from that, every member had a voice, but the Main, I, and my mother before me, had a veto right. No matter what size the pack is that’s a helluva big responsibility. I need someone I can vent to and seek advice from when the burden is too heavy. Or even if I’m just worried about something simple. I still need to keep up appearance to a certain extent to keep the pack calm and content. But the Patriarch carries the burden with me and gives me an outlet. In my opinion, in a good pack, you can’t differentiate between the Main and Patriarch power-wise, due to the trust and respect between the two.”

“Tell me, Dean, are there any more pack members we don’t yet know about?” Marlon asks.

“Nope.”

“Then who is helping you carry the burden now?”

“Sir, with all due respect, our pack is so small Dean doesn’t need anyone else to vent to,” Sam answers with full certainty.

It hits Dean right then that he’s been leaning on a Siderunner for that purpose. Hell, he hadn’t even thought of Sasha as a Siderunner until now but thinking about it it’s a fucking textbook example. He leans back in his chair and sips his drink in order not to look at Marlon.

“I’m sure you’re right, Sam,” Marlon answers with a polite smile at Sam then lets his scrutinizing gaze lock on Dean. Dean’s willing to bet a lot of money that Marlon will question him about it when they’re alone together if he doesn’t bring it up now. Dean _just said_ that no matter how small the pack the Main needs someone to vent too. Sam’s happily oblivious which means he’s been doing a good job of keeping his worst worries and insecurities hidden. 

Marlon doesn’t bring it up, instead, he leads the conversation in another direction.

* * *

“If you had to stick monogamously to one partner for the rest of your life, what would they be like?” Raphael throws out the open question to everyone at the table. They’re having a drink between the main course and dessert and the spirit’s high. The more alcohol is flowing the louder and more frequent the laughter gets.

“What? Like a Conservative?” Dean counters with a little scrunch to his nose.

“If you will. But I was thinking more of the ideal mate.”

“Oh, oh! I know,” Gabe declares. “He or she should have a great sense of humour. They should enjoy practical jokes and be curious to try new things. Maybe be a bit of a goofball. They should have a thing for tails and like sweets, and―” 

“Gabe, you little dolt. You could sum that up in one sentence. ‘They should like me’,” Luci says with an eye-roll, mimicking Gabe’s voice in the last line making his brothers snigger.

“Hey, it’s a good qualifier!” Gabe counters with a grin.

“Good point, but it isn’t setting the bar very high,” Mike points out with a smirk and sips his wine.

“I thought he was describing Dean,” Sam interjects, causing laughter all around while Dean waggles his eyebrows at Gabe with a leer. They’re all loud now while everyone except perhaps Marlon has become tipsy. The Patriarch is drinking but only sips his drink sparingly while drinking water aplenty. Getting the Patriarch hammered before making any decisions about the pack has made itself onto Dean's to-do list.

“How about you, Dean? What’s your ideal?” Mike asks.

“Barring my Cas? Oh, that’s easy. He should smell fantastic. And be able to out-run me, out-climb me, out-track me, out-stalk me, out-fight me, out-smarten me, be stronger and more nimble than me, have more stamina and patience, be wise and sweet and calm and feral and impulsive and funny―” Dean lists, once again getting everyone to erupt in laughter, “―and he should be able to shift lightning quick, have claws, double fangs, an awesome rare flare with a stronger luminosity than I, be able to pelt, have slitted pupils, and have a huge fucking knot, a tail, and, oh, oh, can I pick tentacles too?” 

It takes a while for the laughter to die down enough for anyone to speak. “You sure aren’t setting the bar too _low_ ,” Mike wheezes, triggering another bout of laughter.

“Y’all wanted to know what my ideal partner is. You didn’t say it had to be realistic,” Dean defends himself while sniggering. “I know it ain’t. And some of those things I already know people by this table check off. I’m pretty sure both Luci and Papa are stronger than me, Luci and Sam can definitely track better than me, Dick can outsmart me and is a lot more nimble, Papa, Luci, Dick, and Raff certainly tick off the awesome flare, Gabe has a tail and is impulsive and funny, Raff is calm and wise, Mike is patient and sweet, and Luci has a giant fucking knot.”

“I bet I could out-run and out-fight you too,” Luci smirks.

“Hah! Yeah, no you can’t. Not at a flat run. Maybe you can fight better than me, ain’t saying anything about that until we’ve had a playful tussle. But sprinting? Nu-uh. Not a chance. You’d have to do like Sam and tire me out. He’s not nearly as fast as I am but he has this steady lope he can keep up for days on end without pause. He’s like a fucking moose lumbering on and on and on. Best chance to get away from him is to scuttle up a tree like a damned cat because he’s a lousy climber.”

“I’m not a lousy climber, Dean. It’s you who climb like a friggin’ squirrel,” Sam counters with a bitchface towards Dean before addressing the table. “I’m not joking. He just kicks his boots off, claws on hands and feet and climbs the facade of stone high rises without safety lines or anything. It’s madness.”

“Pfft. I believe it when I see it,” Mike challenges with a doubtful smirk.

“You’re on. When we leave here I’ll scale the outside of this building to show you.”

"Dean. We've all been drinking," Sam protests with a spectacular bitchface.

“You're right. Mike's sight might be too blurry. Some other time then,” Dean agrees with a snigger getting another round of laughter.

“Who is your ideal partner, Sam?" Gabe asks.

“I don't know. She―"

“ _SHE?_ " Dean interrupts in horror. "Seriously? You'd go for a _woman_? No, no. He meant if you could only be with one person for the rest of your life.”

"I know what he meant, Dean," Sam snipes.

“No, but that means no knot for the rest of your life!”

Dick loses it laughing. "Dear me. You're too funny. I'll never get over how much it upsets you thinking about an Omega not getting knotted.” He redirects himself to the rest of the table. “When Dean found out I was in Heat and nobody was deep-purring me he smelled so distressed you wouldn't believe. He took it upon himself to court me tenaciously to the extent that by the time I gave in I had slick soaking my socks.”

Dean laughs proudly. "Damn straight! Sammy and I know how to Alpha and to do it right!”

"You guys got it easy," Sam agrees. “Dad and Bobby raised us to be both but I barely paid attention to half of the things they said. I was so set to be an Alpha. I panicked when I smelt the first hints of Omega on me.”

" _Easy?_ " Lucifer sputters. “You think it's easy to be an Alpha? It's fucking _not_. I'm sitting in a room with three Omegas that all match my ideals one way or another and I've fucked up on the first meeting with each and every one of you.”

“You didn’t fuck up with me,” Sam says.

“Sam, sweetheart, kitling, dear,” Luci counters dryly, “you literally _ran away_ the moment you smelt our mating bond. If I hadn’t fucked up you wouldn’t have done that.”

“Yeah, but it wasn’t the mating bond in itself. It was how we got it,” Sam argues.

“If I hadn’t forgotten the condoms we wouldn’t have bonded; Hence, my fuck up.”

Sam looks like he wants to argue but Gabe forestalls him. “So how did you fuck up your first meeting with Dick? We already know how you messed it up with Sammich and Deano. Now, _spill_ ,” he says with the loving, malicious glee only a sibling is capable of.

“He made the singlehandedly meanest joke about my scentlessness anyone has ever made,” Dick answers with a smirk. “At a time when I was completely incapacitated to boot.” He side-eyes Luci and adds, “Congratulations on that, by the way. Your timing was impeccable.” His tone is amused and his scent holds nothing but contentment.

“I didn’t mean it and you know it,” Luci argues shamefully. 

“How were you incapacitated?” Sam asks.

“Crowley had just tricked me into siphoning a cigarette.”

It causes every Alpha in the room to snigger. “Been there, done that,” Mike states.

“It had the same effect on me too, despite my noseblindness,” Raff adds with a lopsided smile.

“How did he trick you to do it?” Gabe asks.

Dick chuckles self-deprecatingly. “Isn’t that obvious? He told me not to.”

Dean snorts his cognac and starts laughing too hard along with the others. Moreso, when Sam sniggering asks Dick, “Are you sure you and Dean aren’t secretly related?” and Gabe declares that “No! You must be Luci’s secret twin brother.” Still laughing Dean gets out of his chair to mark Dick up affectionately before sitting down again.

“I’m telling Y'all, if you don’t want me doing something you better explain to me _why_ or I’ll have to do it to find out,” Dean tells them. “Telling me no is a fucking challenge.”

“I think that encompasses most of the people in this room. That’s why we get what we want in life and don’t see limitations the way other people do,” Dick says. “Just look at Dean. When he asked me to join he said he'd get a new apartment in the better part of the city to entice me to move in. He just asked me to give him a little time.” He looks at Dean with an amused quirk to his lips. “Tell me, dear, how much time do you need to get an apartment you believe would match my standards?”

"I was thinking a year? Getting the apartment isn't the problem, it's sustaining it.”

The Williams brothers snigger and Dick gives Dean an endeared smirk. “It’s not easy to get a good apartment in this city,” Mike says.

“I know that. Coming new to the city with no contacts? I’d need more time. But I ain’t new to the city anymore and I’ve gotten to know people. I’ve got the contacts. What I don’t have is the paycheck to pay the monthly fees for a rental of that standard. But even if I did it would be dumb to get a new apartment now when I don’t know if I’m planning for a pack of three or a pack of eight plus kits.”

“You want kits?” Marlon asks with an interested glint in his eyes.

“Hells yeah, I do. Not right now, of course. But ask me again when I’m mated, living in a stable pack with a minimum of one Alpha more than there are Omegas and the answer’s gonna be a yes.”

“Normally, I’d tell you, you’re a little young to be thinking about kits, but you told us earlier that you presented at 13 which means you’ve been an O for more than a decade. So your body would be ready. Tell me, son, which one of my sons do you deem fit to father a kit with you?”

Dean chuckles. “Dude, I don’t care. To me, it doesn’t matter who the father is if he’s running in my pack. Or is a good Siderunner, I might add. Ideally, I’d get knocked up during a Heat when all of Y'all have had a go. You too, Papa.”

“Really?” Sam exclaims in surprise. “You don’t care?”

“Nope,” Dean answers popping the P. “As long as all my partners have been hale and healthy I’d prefer to leave it up to nature to decide. Barring that, I’d have the Alphas work out who gets the right to bake the bun.”

“Huh. I’d want to decide who fathers my kit,” Sam says. “I don’t want a kit now, though.”

“Nor should you, son. You’re young and have your education to think of. The question is only of importance to Dean and Richard since they’re of the right age to be thinking of the next step in life,” Marlon agrees. “My Charles was like you, I might add. He was very particular who got to father his sons or knot him. If Aiden hadn’t been our Patriarch he’d never have been allowed to touch Charles.”

“Speaking of,” Dean interjects. “I already brought this up with Mike but it concerns all of y’all. _I_ decides who gets to knot me, alright? I’m hedonistic and I ain’t planning to suddenly _not_ be. You ain’t got no right to tell me I can no longer take polite knottings if we get mated. Actual sex with others can be discussed, but―”

“Telling you ‘no’ is a challenge. Duly noted, son. As long as you don’t try to enforce other rules on us than those you yourself adhere by I believe we will solve any jealousy problems should they surface.”

That’s a satisfying answer. Dean thinks that perhaps these guys really are ideal for them. It’s that, or the booze talking.

* * *


	5. Old Wounds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Along comes Crowley and old secrets are dragged into daylight.

* * *

Dean gets out of his chair to go mark Dick up for the eleventh time after the dessert has been taken away. Yes, he might be doing it a bit obsessively. He can't help it. It's instinct. But Dick tilts his head to grant him access and when Dean marks him Dick makes the quietest purr Dean's ever heard. It's nothing more than a vibration of approval in the air, too high frequency for it to be heard unless you're close like Dean is. Their hearing is adapted to pick up low frequencies. Dean can't remember having heard anybody whisper this quietly primally.

“You insolent piece of Packrunning trash!”

The hostile voice makes Dean stand up straight and turn towards the angry man approaching through the door. He's short, well dressed in dark clothes, striding straight for Dean. One scenting tells Dean that this is Crowley. He smells even more attractive in person but Dean's instantly ticked off.

“You think you can lay claim to _my mate_?” Crowley says and stops in front of him.

Dean flares in warning and steps closer to Crowley with a sneer. “First of all, he stopped being your mate the moment his bond faded. Second of all, I don't give a shit about how good you smell or what you say. Your opinions don't change the fact that you left your mate to let the bond fade _when he was pregnant!_ Have you got any idea what it does to an Omega to lose a kit at 5 months? You sonnova bitch could have killed them both!”

Crowley presses his lips into a thin line and narrows his eyes but doesn't respond. The sudden shift of jumbled scents in the room makes it hard to discern individual feelings except for Dick's intense distress after Dean's statement. You can't see it on him. He's bent his neck to look at his wine glass. His expression is pleasant and a small sardonic smile plays on his lips, but with how strongly he reeks of distress he's fooling no one. Dean elongates his canines to fangs and growls threateningly at Crowley at the same time as he makes a soothing sound in the breastbone tract to calm Dick down. 

“Dick hasn't been 5 months pregnant since he and Crowley got mated. I'd know. He's been working with us since college and hasn't been away long enough since his internship for us not to know about it,” Gabe says. 

Dean jumps to conclusions. He grabs onto Crowley's collar with one hand and pulls him in, clawing on his other hand. “You knocked him up before he was sent away?! You rotten piece of―!”

“It wasn't his.” 

Dick's voice stops Dean from ripping into Crowley with his claws. “Come again?” he asks and turns his head towards Dick.

Dick keeps his gaze locked on his wine still looking unruffled and slightly amused, but his scent is heavy with distress and mourning. “I got pregnant three weeks after Crowley had gone out of town, at my first office party when I was an intern.”

“Luci!” Gabe exclaims in horror. All of them suddenly reek of upset feelings. 

“ _Me?!_ ” Luci squeaks indignantly. “Why are you accusing me for? _I_ didn't knock him up!”

“Did too!”

“Did not! What even gave you that idea?!”

“I saw you outside of the toilets. You were zipping down your pants and already had Dick pushed against the wall fingering him and biting his neck.”

“Yes, but before I got to push in Dick spun around and roared at me since I hadn’t courted him properly! It was Michael! He has a track record of knotting Dick when they're drunk and they _never_ use condoms!”

“What!? It wasn't me!”

“Oh yeah? Like you'd _remember!_ And you were _obsessed_ with him!”

“Fuck you, was _not_! Besides, Raphael was fretting about how to make a move on Dick and no matter how drunk I am I would _never_ cock block Raff!”

Like one, Luci, Gabe, Mike, Sam, Dean, and Crowley turn to look at Raphael. 

Raphael shakes his head. “I lost my nerve when Dick made no indication that my advances would be welcome. And then uncle Aiden and Dick seemed to be about to get it on…”

“So it was Aiden?”

“Makes sense. I think Aiden had a thing for Dick,” Mike says. 

“Yes, but wasn't he called away because of an emerge―” Luci cuts off and bows his head licking his lips in submission almost at the same time as Sam does it. Dean doesn't get why until a few beats later when he picks up what their sensitive noses already smelled. 

Marlon is _furious_. 

One by one everyone except Dick and Dean have taken a submissive posture, smelling of fear and anxiety. Dean looks in Marlon’s direction. The Patriarch is leaned back with a relaxed body language and heavy eyelids. His eyes are icy as he keeps his gaze locked with Dick's. It's almost funny that the two people who smell of the strongest feelings are the two not showing it outwardly. Marlon’s rage smells so sharp and explosive it makes Dean growl in warning while making the sound for placating a Patriarch in his breastbone tract. Dick's holding Marlon's gaze looking bored. Without scent to call them out, these two are without a doubt the best liars in the room. 

Marlon ignores everyone but Dick. “Tell me, Richard…” he says and swirls the cognac in his glass, “what kind of Omega doesn't inform the father of a pregnancy? Explain it to me so I can understand.” Not even the tone of his voice gives away the anger in him.

Dick remains quiet.

When the pause Marlon left isn't filled by an answer Marlon speaks again. “I know you aren't above sleeping yourself to what you want or you hadn't interned with us in the first place. You knew the name of the father. You knew all of us could and would provide for any potential kit. So why not tell me? I thought it didn't take. It would have been a first, but it could have happened.”

There are shocked gasps around the table. “ _You_ knocked Dick up?” Michael asks in bewilderment but is ignored.

Dick's scent suddenly goes from distressed to aggressive and full of mourning. He scowls at Marlon. “What difference does it make? You're all Packrunning trash. You all need to agree to integrate someone in the pack and Luci had already declared that he'd _never_ allow me to be part of the pack,” he says angrily. 

Lucifer squeaks. “What?! I never said that! When did I say that?! It's not true!” He rambles looking around. 

“You said you'd never bring home someone scentless to the pack. You assumed it would fix me if I joined you and you feared you wouldn't _like_ my scent. Newsflash, Packrunning doesn't magically fix things.”

“That's bullshit! I don't recall having said that. When did I say that?”

“Third year in college you―”

“ _College!?_ That's almost two decades ago! I was an idiot back then. Why would you even remember that!?”

“Because he was bonkers for you and you kept rejecting him,” Crowley answers tiredly and sits down heavily beside him in Dean’s vacated chair. He looks defeated like he knew this would happen. 

“He was _not_. He wasn't the slightest interested in me, never has been!” Luci insists.

“Darling, he's had a thing for you since the first time he encountered your marking. But you kept hurting him and I had to clean up your messes,” Crowley says, making Luci grimace when Crowley calls him darling.

“Crowley dear, stop talking. It doesn’t matter. Like Luci pointed out, it’s more than a decade ago and his assumption that I’d get my scent just because I was made part of the pack pissed me off. Nobody knew it required me to siphon someone who had siphoned me first and during my whole 40 years alive Dean’s the only one who has wanted to do it. Packrunner or not, I had no scent to entice anyone and I’d remained as scentless as ever.”

“That’s not true!” Luci protests defensively. “Mikey siphoned you every chance he got back in college!”

The outraged silence that follows is thunderous as every pair of eyes lock on Mike. He pales and swallows dryly, the _gulp_ sound comically loud. Or it would have been comical if the accusation wasn’t so grave. He shakes his head. “No, I didn’t,” he lies unconvincingly.

Luci is having none of that. He’s feeling unjustly accused and set on throwing Michael under the bus. “Yes, you did! You even made me siphon him once. And that’s not counting that time we watched a new pack form.” He twists around in his chair to talk directly to Dick. “I did. I siphoned you once. Mikey came up to my room with your secretion on his fingers and told me to. He was persistent and you’d never get to know, so I did it. But Mikey? _All the time._ He was obsessed with you. Not in love, just obsessed. It was infuriating and fucking annoying. He was all ‘Do you think Dick will like this? What will it take to get Dick to come with me to a movie? Do you think Dick will come to the party tonight? Dick said this thing...’ It was always Dick this and Dick that, barely even slowing down while he was crushing on someone else. He kept obsessing over you long after you stopped hanging with us in private. _Long_ after you mated Crowley. Didn’t give up on that obsession until maybe six years ago. And another thing. Because of all the times he’s siphoned you, when he first smelled you he _knew_ it was you with a 100% surety. So don’t go telling me nobody ever wanted to siphon you. If you hadn’t played so damned hard to get―”

“He wasn’t playing, son.” Marlon’s input cuts Luci off, reminding them all that Marlon’s still seething. “He _is_ hard to get. Just like Dean’s still debating if we’re good enough for him and his pack. And the next time anyone of you get obsessed with an Omega for _any_ reason, I’d be grateful if you’d be so _kind_ to _inform_ me,” he says, voice low and tight with withheld fury.

“E-excuse me, Sir,” Sam says uncertainly. “I, uh… are you sure the kit Dick lost was yours? Don’t get me wrong, but you don’t seem like the type to forget condoms…?” He’s tense and cowers slightly in response to the sharp sting of fury in the air, but he still meets Marlon’s gaze curiously. Dean doesn’t doubt for a minute that Sam’s cowering is a polite show of placating deference. He doesn’t smell of fear.

“Of course I didn’t forget condoms,” Marlon snaps, annoyance starting to break the surface. “I _intended_ to get him pregnant. He was in pre-Heat and I was in pre-Rut. By my calc―”

“How do you even know that? How the fuck did you know I was in pre-Heat when not even _I_ knew it?” Dick asks, voice agitated and scent a jumbled mess.

“You tricked Michael into giving you the internship because he got to help you out during your Heat. The rest was just basic math and observation.”

“But why would you knock up somebody else’s mate on purpose?” Dean asks slightly horrified.

Marlon throws a glance at Dean then looks back at Dick. “Aiden came home all jittery and riled up after his first meeting with Dick. He said he finally understood what I felt when I met my Charles. My brother had always been a man whore. Up until that moment I thought him incapable of committing to one Omega when he could have mindless pleasure with all of them. But Richard made the exception to the rule. He even gave away grandfather's pocket watch.” He looks around at all of them. “Aiden wanted to mate Richard. Had we not found out he was the one to cause Peter Hale to kill his Main he would have wooed him. Our relationship with the Hales was, as you know, at an all-time low at the time. We were on the brink of a pack war. Richard stopped that war from happening but it was a tenuous thing. Chances were that if Richard became part of the pack the war would have started. Aiden didn't deem his own happiness worth the danger to us all. He couldn't start a war for an outsider.”

“What's that got to do with getting my mate pregnant?” Crowley mutters annoyedly at the same time as Sam says “Oh, that's brilliant,” with a hint of excitement in his scent.

Dean stares at the Patriarch with wide eyes. Impressed and a little scared at the sheer ruthless deviousness of it all. He thinks of what he himself would have done if he found himself knocked up by an Alpha whom he knew and who was prosperous enough to take care of him. Either he'd contact the Alpha or… or called his own Alpha home after the three first months if they were separated. But first and foremost the Alpha who knocked him up even if he wasn't part of the pack. Alphas are protective and caring by nature and most will step up to the task of caring for a kit even if the Omega refuses to mate them. “Because he could start a war for a pack member,” he hears himself saying. “And Marlon's offspring would automatically be considered part of the pack no matter what Dick had to say about it…”

Marlon gives him a slight smile and a shred of pleasure mixes with the anger in his scent. “Quite right, son. And if Richard was carrying my kit Aiden would have no excuse not to court him. Richard has been part of two packs and been the Main of one. His―”

“ _What?!_ ”  
“You’re a Packrunner?!”  
“You told me you’ve had dealings with packs, not that you’d been the Main of one!”

The Williams brothers speak at once, directing themselves at Dick talking over each other agitatedly.

“Oh, shut up. I’m not a Packrunner. It’s true that I was a Main in the name for a couple of months, but I was still young and learning the ropes. I can't be considered to have been a real Main. Besides, they didn't seem fit to tell me some crucial details of their income-bringing activities. They didn't trust me to be one of them.”

“That's not true, son,” Marlon says. “But like you pointed out you were a young convert. You were still learning how to run with a pack. I'm sure they would have told you within a year, once you'd settled into your role. You were mated with both the Patriarch and his chosen successor. It couldn't have remained a secret.”

“How do you even know all this?” Dick asks in disbelief.

“After we witnessed the interaction between you and Peter Hale I had a meeting one on one with Laurent. He gave me a rundown of your past.”

“Why the hell would he tell _you?_ ”

“Son, he pack-bonded to you and then lost you to wanderlust which had horrendous consequences for his pack. He cared for your well-being. In his eyes, your future would be secured if you joined us as well as cementing a chance for a good diplomatic relationship between our packs if Peter could be reined in. Laurent and I always did have a good rapport. And Aiden? Aiden was brave to the point of recklessness until his heart was on the line. That damn fool didn’t dare to court you in case he’d fail. The one time in his life he didn’t live up to his motto.”

“No time like the present…” Dick mumbles.

“Exactly.” Marlon looks at Mike. “Had I known about this obsession I’d commanded you to help win Dick over. The only one in the pack he doesn’t get along with is me. I did a good job courting him but failed after that first time.” He turns his head towards Dick. “I did do a good job courting you, did I not?”

“You did,” Dick agrees.

“Then why on earth did you keep resisting me?!” Marlon flares brightly in annoyance.

“Maybe because he’s monogamously mated, you nob,” Crowley snipes and puts a hand possessively on Dick’s shoulder.

“That’s a load of bull crap and we both know it,” Marlon retorts with a dismissive gesture. “You both had lovers on the side, you more than Richard, but still both of you. I’m not even counting Balthazar since he’s a lover you shared. No. Richard had another cause for resisting me and it wasn’t my ineptitude at courting nor lack of attraction. It’s always _irked_ me not being able to figure it out. I know enough to understand that he doesn’t like me like he does the rest of the pack but all I needed was a bond or a pregnancy and he and Aiden could have been happy. Instead, Aiden died of a heart-attack the doctors couldn’t understand but I darn well knew he died of a breaking heart he refused to acknowledge. Had I been given _any_ indication that anyone of you might have held a similar interest in Richard―” He takes a deep breath to calm down.

Dick’s scent is starting to turn calm. Not content by far, but the maelstrom of emotion that had been there is fading. Dean steps closer to Dick’s chair to put a hand on Dick’s shoulder from behind. Dick moves his cognac glass over to Crowley, holding on to his wine and covers Dean’s hand with his other.

Crowley downs the cognac in one go then switch the empty tumbler for Lucifer’s almost full one. Luci notices but doesn’t protest. Nobody says anything, waiting for Marlon to go on. The only sounds in the room are Dean’s Patriarch-calming purr and a muted hum from the restaurant on the other side. Dean’s awed and excited in a horrified way. What Marlon is talking about―’ _all I needed was a bond or a pregnancy_ ’―is sniping. Just like what dad had told him about when discussing how to pry Sam’s mate from his pack. What Sasha had talked about to get Dick to join the pack.

“I had no cause to suspect you wanted Richard to run with us,” Marlon goes on directing himself to his sons, much calmer now, “until Luci pulled that ridiculous stunt for him the other week.”

“What stunt?” Sam asks curiously.

“He gave the order to buy all competing companies within a new technology because somebody had disrespected Richard.”

Dick’s eyebrows shoot upward and he looks at Luci in question. Luci straight up blushes. “The one who controls the market decides who works in it. Not that it matters since Father shut it down,” he mutters.

Dean and Sam both snigger. “‘Tis about Brock Garrett? Cuz that’s been taken care of,” Dean informs him.

“That’s very sweet of you, dear,” Dick says with a soft smile at Luci.

“Richard,” Marlon says to regain the attention. “I took you with me as my assistant on many business trips to get you away from your mate. When we were in Hawaii I took you out every night after the meetings. We’ve had long talks, danced, and I did everything in my power to win you over. I’ve just been informed I lost a kit I could have saved if I’d only known. I was foolish enough to think you would have told me if―” He breaks off to run a hand over his face and look away, sadness and anger saturating his scent. He looks back again when the sadness it tampered down. “Do me the honour to tell me where I erred. Please.”

“The answer is simple, dear. You were always sober.” Dick smirks and takes a sip of wine. “I grew up an orphan in the slums. One lesson you learn quickly is that when someone tries to get you drunk while staying sober themselves they don’t have your best interest at heart.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

“I’m a complete blunderbuss when I’m inebriated.”

“So is Michael and yet he has a high success rate of bedding me,” Dick deadpans with a small chuckle.

“Fat lot of good it did him when he never remembered it,” Lucifer remarks.

Crowley downs the drink he stole from Lucifer and gets up. He leans in to whisper in Dick's ear but Dean is close enough to overhear. “Have a fun evening, love. I'll stay with a friend tonight and we'll have a chat about this tomorrow.” Then, before Dick has a chance to answer Crowley straightens up. “Gentlemen," he says to the table at large and turns on his heel. 

Dean watches him walk away and leave. “I'll be right back," he says to Dick then hurries after him.

* * *


	6. Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam's a happy, careless drunk. Things that have been hidden continue to get dragged into the light when Crowley makes a confession to Dean, and Dean tells the group about something he's not even told Sam about before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, I'd planned for Dick and Luci to get a One-on-one in this chapter but it got too long and I'm moving it forward to a chapter of its own. And can I just say that it makes me happy that so many of you called it, regarding Crowley's behaviour? <3

* * *

He catches up with Crowley outside of the restaurant. “Hey, Crowley. Wait up.”

Crowley doesn't slow down. “Lovely. Just the person I was hoping to see," he answers sarcastically.

"Yeah, I get that I ain't mister popular to you right now,” Dean says falling into stride with Crowley. “But I need to talk to you. First off, to apologise. I jumped to conclusions and I was wrong. Ain't gonna pretend I wasn't like some cowardly asshole. I'm sorry for accusing you of abandoning a pregnant mate.”

"You believe a man like Dick would have stuck around if I did? Then you don't know him, darling.”

"I get that. But we do dumb shit when we're in love. Look, I get that you and I got off on the wrong foot. But I'm not trying to get between you and Dick, I really ain't. I want my pack to be happy and I'd never deny an active mateship.”

"Skip the tosh, love. You said so yourself, we stopped being mated the moment the bond faded.”

“Yeah, but Dick's scentlessness kinda changes things.” Dean spots a bar up ahead. “Let me buy you a beer and we'll talk."

“No thanks."

"How 'bout an umbrella drink?” he suggests jokingly and gestures at the bar while giving Crowley a toothy grin and wagging his eyebrows.

Crowley sighs then stops to give him a flat, tired look. “You're not going to take no for an answer, are you?”

Actually, he would in this particular case. But he doesn’t want to. "Not if that means you're gonna say yes?"

“One drink. And you're paying, darling.”

They end up sitting by the bar counter with a ridiculously large umbrella drink each and Dean makes his apology, telling Crowley how he hadn't planned to steal Dick away but once the bond was formed he couldn't deny its pull. “... but you're welcome to run with us if you want. I won't try to dictate how you live your life. All I ask is that you don't do anything to hurt the pack. As I said, I'm not trying to come between you and Dick.”

Crowley shakes his head. "If I wanted to run with a pack Dick and I wouldn't have the problems we've been having, love.” He holds up his hand to stop Dean from responding. “Dick's a Packrunner at heart no matter how he's always claimed to hate you lot. He’s always been. He moved in and converted our dorm to a pseudo-pack within months. Because of that, I knew from the moment I smelled our mating bond that it was a temporary thing. I bloody well hadn't thought it would last almost two decades, though.”

“Yeah, but, you think I’m trying to steal him away and that’s not it. If you love him―” 

Crowley rolls his eyes and cuts Dean off. “I love him but we've never been _in_ love. The last couple of years Dick and I have been holding each other back. We’ve grown apart and want different things. I didn't crash your date tonight to get him back, darling. I did it in case everything had gone to shite and he needed an out.”

Dean’s eyebrows shoot upward in surprise. “Oh. Fuck. That makes me feel even worse for thinking you were an asshole.”

Crowley sips his drink with a smug little smirk. “Love, I’m definitely an arsehole. Cross me or the people I care about and you’ll wish you were dead.” He turns serious. “But Dick’s been completely bonkers for all of the Williams wankers since the first whiff. Especially the red-eyed duffers, Aiden and Lucifer. He’s been turning down good offers to take over HR out of state several times so he could stick around and make himself miserable pining. If this will finally get him his heart’s desire? Good for him.”

“You smell sad,” Dean challenges.

“Of course I’m sad, you dolt. You try spending half your life with someone and have them disappear on you,” Crowley grumps. Sam has got the most lethal puppy eyes on this side of the equator. Dean’s been told he isn’t far behind. He’s not really aware of how he looks while he thinks of the tragedy of that until Crowley’s grumpy demeanour cracks. “Oh, cheer up, love. It’s not your fault. I told you we’ve been growing apart. It didn’t come as a surprise. If it goes well for Dick I’ll be happy for him. I’ve got my own life sorted. That doesn’t mean I can’t be a little bummed that one part of my life has ended. New beginnings are uncertain. I bloody hate uncertainty even when it’s for the best.”

“You know he won’t actually disappear, right? He won’t stop being your friend just because you aren’t mated. I smelled how strong the friendship bond is.”

Crowley makes a dismissive hand gesture. “A problem for another day.”

Dean nods and takes a big gulp of his drink. “Hey, Crowley? Speaking of new beginnings?”

“What?”

Dean holds out his hand to shake. “Dean Winchester. Nice to meet you,” he says and tilts his head to offer his neck for scenting. Crowley scrutinizes him for a beat, then smirks, takes the offered hand and leans in.

* * *

“No. _You_ told me I wasn’t allowed to deep-purr for Dick. You explicitly _forbade me_ to do it. And what do you do the first chance you get? _Deep-purr_ for him!” Mike pokes Luci angrily in the chest to accentuate his harshly whispered words.

“He was vulnerable and in need of fucking _friends_ , not horny knotheads. How is it you don’t understand this? You fucking smelt his distress same as I! Today is different. We’re on a _pack date_ with a pack _he belongs to_. Since when did you become such a fucking retard that you can’t separate right from wrong with your fucking ass?” Luci whispers back just as harshly.

Sam leans his shoulder against the wall and crosses his arms over his chest. He smirks lopsidedly in amusement. “You guys might think you’re whispering but one would have to be ear-blind not to hear,” he remarks then sniggers at how both brothers jerk in surprise, both too intent on their little argument to pay attention to Sam’s scent behind them.

They both look his way wearing the same busted expression. They’re outside by the loading docks at the back, both having left to ‘go to the bathroom’. Sam went to go there too but got curious when he smelt their trail go off in the wrong direction.

Sam hops down from the loading dock and walks up to them. “Is this about the argument you guys had when Dick came?”

“It is,” Luci confirms. He smells faintly of anxiety up close. “Am I in trouble?” he asks.

Sam grabs a hold of him by the waist and pulls him in to hug him from behind, rubbing his temple gland against Luci’s cheek affectionately. “What for?” He might be a bit tipsy. Maybe a tad bit more than tipsy. Who cares anyway?

“For courting Dick?” Luci asks and covers Sam’s arms with his own.

Mike stands opposite of the pair only a few feet away, keeping quiet, watching them.

Sam chuckles. “Why would you be? I’m glad you are. He thought you would reject a pack merger out of hand because he joined.”

“ _What?_ ”  
“ _What?_ ”

Sam giggles at their synched reaction and disbelieving faces. “Yeah. Guess that wasn’t the case, huh? So what’s your argument about? I meant to ask you earlier but the conversation sorta just thundered ahead. They tend to do that when Dean’s got alcohol inside of him. He’s loud… and, and... bossy.”

“How the hell did he get that idea?” Mike asks, not wanting to leave the topic.

Sam shrugs and nuzzles Luci’s hair. They all smell so friggin _nice_. It’s like being cocooned in a scent cloud of heaven. “I dunno. You tell me. All I knew about you and him was that he was a friend of the family. So what are you fighting about?” The date is going so well. Everybody gets along fantastically. Sure, there’s been a little drama. After Dean left, Marlon stepped outside for a bit seeking solitude. Gabe had taken the opportunity to ask Dick haltingly 'Is it true that you like us?’ which made Dick laugh hysterical for several minutes before he suddenly stilled and answered ‘Yes’ with a serious face. Dick had excused himself to go seek out Marlon then to ‘exchange a couple of words’, which was understandable under the circumstances. Sam’s glad he was seated beside Raff. The two of them have had an ongoing conversation in hushed voices all night. Sam knows Raff. He feels secure with him. And he’s so friggin’ happy about Dean and Raff’s reactions to being reunited. Marlon is still intimidating. Maybe more so now than before, knowing what he did to try to make Dick part of the pack. But also a little less intimidating because Sam had smelt the pain and the mourning under the rage when it was revealed that Dick had lost his kit. It’s sometimes hard to know how much nuance people pick up in scent since most people don’t have as good of a sense of smell as he. Marlon left the room because he was devastated and needed to get a hold of those feelings before anyone could notice, not because he needed to rein in his anger.

Luci sighs. “We’re fighting because when Dick’s scent was revealed to us it proved to be as gorgeous as yours and Dean’s. And, newsflash, you are all driving us absolutely insane smelling like you do. So Mikey went into knothead-mode―”

“Did not!”

Luci goes on without acknowledging Mike’s snippy protest. “―and thought it was a good idea to start wooing Dick right away with no consideration for the circumstances. In Mike’s defense, he isn’t usually that stupid. I’m blaming his decade-long obsession with Dick.”

“You mean, he was in love with Dick.” It’s so nice to just stand here holding Luci. He’s such a sweet person under his Alpha bluster. Sam thinks it’s because he has such a good sense of smell. He smells emotions others try to keep hidden, just like Sam. 

“I wasn’t in love with him!”  
“He wasn’t _in love_!”

The brothers speak at the same time again, making Sam giggle. He reeks of happiness and it makes him even more joyful to smell it on himself. “Look,” he says, still chuckling. “Progs fall in love based on looks and personality, right? Dick had no scent for you to fall in love with the Primal way but what Luci described at the table sure sounded like being in love. So to me, it sounded like you’ve been in love with him, like, forever, and his scent made that old crush flare back to life again. It makes sense, right? And that’s why Marlon got even more pissed off when he heard about your so-called obsession. He gets it even if you didn’t. Right?” he says to Mike.

Both brothers draw breath wearing small frowns as if they’re about to protest, then they stop, their faces smooth out in realisation.

Mike claps a hand over his face with a grimace. “Fuck sake. I’m an idiot.”

“Second that,” Luci agrees.

“So why did you forbid him to purr for Dick?” Sam asks, feeling pretty damn satisfied with himself for figuring things out.

“Because Dick was in Heat and reeking of distress and sadness. It was lousy timing. Just think about it! Usually when you present people change how they act around you but you change how you see people at the same time so it isn’t a problem. But to the world Dick was suddenly newly presented, only he’s been a certified O for twenty years or something. And out of the blue, we change how we act around him? His friends? Like he’s been fucking invisible or something up until then. He’s fucking _not_ and has never been near invisible but if we’d started to act different instead of like the friends we’re supposed to be, it would fuck him up even more. He needed us to be a steady point in his life when everything else changed. We’ve always been idiots, but he didn’t need us to be a new kind of idiots. At least, that’s what I would have wanted if I was him.”

“Couldn’t you just have explained it like that, to begin with?” Mike says in frustration.

“First off you should have been able to deduct that yourself with your fucking pinkie toe, second, _fuck you_ , I tried too but you wouldn’t listen! You were like ‘I do what I want to, you’re not the boss of me!’”

Sam sniggers. “This is a very relevant argument but I get why Mike is being stupid about it if he’s in love with Dick.”

“Point,” Luci says with a discontent twist to his lips and a scornful look at his grumpy brother.

“Anyway, Dean’s back and it’s been suggested we all go out dancing. Dean’s currently bullying Marlon into coming, and I’m thinking that maybe, Luci, you could keep your focus on Dick? I think it could get too much if all of you woo him right now. And I could get to know you, Mike, and Gabe a little better. Raff thinks it a good idea. Besides, he and Dean deserve some one-on-one time.” Sam lets his dopey smile drop from his face in exchange for a suspicious squint at Mike. “Although, I’m not so sure I should be alone with you,” he tells Mike.

“Why not?” Mike asks with a confused frown.

“In case you siphon me against my will.” 

“That was in college!” Mike protests earnestly, suddenly smelling faintly of anxiety. “I don’t do that anymore, I swear.”

“Are you sure? Because Dean told me you’d siphoned him behind his back.”

“ _Fuck._ ” Mike turns his back towards them rubbing his hand over his face, the anxiety shooting skywards to a degree that Sam almost gets nauseous from the smell.

Sam drops the stern act and laughs. “ _Kidding!_ I don’t care if you siphon me. You can both siphon me if you want?” he offers magnanimously with a grin. It doesn’t matter, does it? They’re all going to be one big happy family soon enough.

Mike turns around to look hopefully at him. “We can?”

“Well, yeah. If you want to?”

Mike’s anxiety is traded for excitement even if his expression doesn’t change. Sam sniggers and Luci scoffs. “You have a fucking problem, Mikey. You’re like a fucking junkie.”

“Hey, he said I could!” Mike protests.

Sam sniggers and places a kiss on Lucifer’s hair. “You don’t want to siphon me?”

“Of course I do. Are you sure you’re okay with that?” Luci answers softly.

“Yeah.”

Five minutes later he’s sort of kind of almost regretting saying yes. Why? You try having two dreamy Alphas licking your neck and siphoning you, getting increasingly high, horny, and handsy. Sam’s holding each of them with an arm around their waist pressed towards his chest. He himself is leaking slick which isn’t exactly making the two Alphas less horny. But the most pressing problem right now is his own erection. He has a giggle fit and pushes both of them away. “I need to pee. How the hell am I going to pee with a boner?” he giggles. Honestly? If they don’t stop now Dean’s gonna have to come out to get them and find Sam embarrassingly knotted from two directions, mouth too full to make any excuses. The two Alphas are just too friggin’ gorgeous, both flaring strongly, eyelids heavy and gaze unfocused by the high. 

“Right, right. We should get back to the others,” Luci points out lazily.

Mike nods his agreement. “And I’m going to focus on getting to know your mate and the next time I meet Dick I get to purr for him all I want and you won’t put a finger in between.”

“Yes. Sounds good to me.” 

“Sam?” Mike says then.

“Yes?”

“Are you very disappointed that none of us is female?”

“What? _No_. Oh no. No no no,” Sam hastens to assure waving his hands in front of himself in denial. “I don’t―! So get this. The question was if I’d have to pick one ideal partner for the rest of my life, right? I like guys and getting knotted. I _do_. But if I had to pick just one? Women are just so… so…” Lacking the right words he mimics sweeping his hands along the body of a voluptuous female body.

“They do have a nice topography,” Luci agrees with a corner of his mouth quirking upward in amusement.

Mike and Sam both giggle. “Indeed. As long as you’re not having second thoughts about us,” Mike says.

“Definitely not,” Sam assures.

Once they manage to get back to the dining room there’s been some reshuffling with Dick sitting on Mike’s chair beside Marlon and Dean sitting in Raphael’s lap while Gabe has taken Sam’s place. It seems like the discussion in the room is currently taking a similar turn as it had for Sam, Luci and Mike outside. Naturally, it’s Dean who is the loudest. Sam’s too friggin happy to be bothered about his big brother being an attention whore. Marlon’s scent still bears traces of faint mourning but otherwise, the general scent in the room is positive.

“...No, no, I’m telling you, Progs are weird,” Dean’s just saying. “Like, I was at a Prog party the other day, and this one guy was trying to get into my pants. And he asked me if I’m a top or a bottom. I get that he could be noseblind, but why not just come out and ask if I’m an Alpha or Omega? That’s just weird.”

“Agree to disagree,” Marlon counters while Luci sits down beside Dick and Mike takes Dean’s vacated spot. Sam goes around to sit beside Dean and Raff. “It’s nothing strange about that whether he’s noseblind or not,” Marlon goes on, pausing to take a sip of his drink. “If he simply wanted mindless pleasure he’d be best served inquiring about your preferences rather than asking for your gender as those two don’t necessarily align.”

“Yeah,” Sam agrees, “I really like to top.”

“What?” Dean asks and twists in Raff’s lap to blink in surprise at Sam.

“Neither do preferences have to align with rank. During bonding sex the first one to top and come inside, or in case of females, come _on_ their partner, is always the highest ranking. This, I believe, is a hassle for Michael,” Marlon goes on. “Or am I wrong?” he asks Mike, lifting an imploring eyebrow.

Mike shakes his head. “No, you’re not wrong. I prefer to bottom.”

“How ‘bout you, Papa? You a bottom?” Dean asks with a lopsided smirk.

“ _No_ ,” Raff, Gabe, Luci and Mike exclaim at the same time. It’s followed by laughter around the table at the absolute statement, while Marlon chuckles darkly and shakes his head.

“I’m not, as my sons attested to. I let my brother top out of necessity, but that’s it.”

“Speaking of rank, what is the ranking in your pack?” Dick asks. “As hard as I’ve tried, I’ve never managed to figure it out.”

“Aside from myself, the ranking is dynamic and changes often,” Marlon tells him. “Mike or Raff tend to switch who is next in line for my title on a monthly basis. Sometimes they challenge each other even more often and sometimes they keep up the status quo for up to half a year. Mike holds the official top position in the company, but at home, it’s a different matter.”

“I’m the bottom rung,” Gabe chimes in looking incredibly proud of that. “I don’t ever want to be a Patriarch if I can avoid it. I’m the most comfortable getting a task, doing it creatively, then skipping off to Parkland House to sniff Bacchabundus flowers.”

“The Bacca-say-what-now?” Dean asks. Sam’s curious too. He’s never heard of that flower.

“It’s a drug,” Marlon answers with the sting of annoyance in his scent. “It’s a rare flower from the tropics,” he clarifies. “Quite harmless to the body, but similarly to siphoning a cigarette, it incapacitates you. Not to the same degree, though. And you don’t have to siphon it to get an effect, just breathe in close enough to inhale its pollen. You get a rather pleasant high from it.”

“Isn’t it illegal?” Dean asks curiously.

“It was,” Marlon answers. “But then _somebody_ decided to make the most well-executed campaign I’ve ever seen to sway the general opinion on the matter, his final project in his marketing class at college.” He gives Gabe a dark look but Gabe only waggles his eyebrows with a shiteating grin then points to himself and mouths ‘me’, proud as a peacock.

Sam and Dean both laugh incredulously.

“But why haven’t we heard about it before?” Sam asks. “Shouldn’t a drug like that be fairly popular and widespread?”

“It’s expensive to keep and notoriously difficult to transport. The plant requires the same conditions as it has in the wild. Dried it loses its potency, same as when the flower is wilting. So there are places like Parkland House that have these giant glass houses where they tend the flowers and parlors where you can sit comfortably while they bring out a pot with the flower. You sniff the flower and they return the flower to the glass house right away. It’s a nice way to kill a couple of hours, but personally, I prefer alcohol. Besides, you can’t get an erection when you’re bacchic,” Mike explains.

“Which is exactly why you _should_ prefer Bacchabundus, Mr. Oops-I-forgot-the-condoms,” Luci ribs with a smirk.

“Fuck you, it was only with Dick,” Mike counters.

“Oh, really? What about the Prog, Kate?”

“Okay, okay, but it’s only been with Os that actually matter to me,” Mike grumps.

Luci throws his head back laughing. “Fuck, Mikey, you suck." He turns his head towards Dick and grins. "You hear that, sweetheart? Only with people that matter,” he says and winks.

"You mean like you did with Sam?" Gabe chirps teasingly at Luci, making everyone laugh and Luci cross his arms over his chest grumpily.

“Maybe that’s another piece of subconscious bio-compulsion at work?” Sam offers. “Because I’ve been a lot drunker than I was then when I’ve had sex but usually I always hear Dean’s voice scold me in my head that I need to use condoms. So maybe, when we’re in love, the wish to get mated is so strong that we skip out on condoms on purpose and afterwards tell ourselves that we forgot?”

For a moment everyone gets a thoughtful expression in their faces as the claim resonates with something true inside of them. But then, of course, Dean goes, “ _Nah_. Y’all are just stupidly drunk horndogs.”

Everyone laughs at that but Sam sees how Dick keeps throwing surreptions glances at Mike, and how Mike bends his head and blushes anytime their gazes meet…

* * *

They end up at a round table in the bar part of the dance club. Marlon’s still with them because Dean’s taking a ‘no’ about as well as a brick wall and Dick bent his head down looking coyly up at the Patriarch asking him for at least one dance ‘to show the youngsters how it’s done’. They haven’t started dancing yet, though. No, they’re still getting liquored up. The drama from earlier has been put on hold for now, except Mike keeps getting jabs for siphoning. But it’s just friendly teasing. Oh, and Dean bit Marlon in the arm, full fangs dropped and everything. Not hard enough to pierce skin and fabric but hard enough for the scent of pain to spike despite Marlon showing nothing more than a twitch by the eye. Sam wasn’t close enough to know what sparked the bite and got nervous seeing it. Marlon told Dean ‘You’re being primitive and crude. Don’t do it again or I’ll have to put you in place.’ Dean got an impish gleam in his eyes and instantly bit Marlon again. Sam though there was going to be a fight but instead of getting angry for the repeated offense Marlon got aroused. So, Sam admits to himself, whatever was said before the biting probably was foreplay rather than the start of a fight. He isn’t ashamed to admit he was doing the opposite of paying attention to them beforehand since Dean was telling lousy puns as if he’d experienced them. ‘Bartholomew told me that if I found a USB outside I’m not allowed to take it to work. So I wrote a note; International bees only.’ Dean’s humour _sucks_. But Marlon laughs as if Dean’s some kind of comedic genius. Cas used to laugh like that at Dean’s jokes too. And dad. Sam’s not convinced they weren’t laughing just to be nice. How many people can have that level of crappy humour?

That was then and now they’re engaged in a discussion that started out being about Mike’s shifting kink and turned into a discussion about shifting in general. Gabe fully believes it is possible some people can do whole shifts.

“No way in hell they can,” Dean protests.

“But if―”

“Nope. Not buying it. Look, I’m not saying it’s not possible to make big shifts, okay? It is. But the greatest shift I ever did damn near killed me and the pain was fucking excruciating. I could barely breathe because of the pain in my ribcage, my heart was racing and it took a week before I could stand on my feet or use my hands again. By then I was exhausted, starved and dehydrated to the point where I might have died of those things rather than the actual shifting.”

“When was this?” Sam asks in surprise. “You’ve never told me about that?”

Dean looks rueful, takes a big gulp out of his glass of water and then shrugs with a grimace. “‘S when I’d left but still stuck around as a Siderunner. I had so much time on my hands. I had this constant urge to come home and stay for good, or to go away to find a new pack, so I explored.” Dean turns to direct himself to the Williamses and Dick. “Kansas was hit pretty badly by the war, right? Many villages and towns were laid to waste. They’re everywhere, getting overgrown like the slums here but nobody lives there anymore. And then you have towns like ours that made it through, dotting the whole state. Sometimes they’re bunched together and sometimes they’re like ours, a living town in the middle of ghost towns. Between the towns, there are forests and abandoned fields. So while I side-ran I hunted, patrolled our territory, which, I can tell you, is fucking huge. After the war, all three big packs in our town had been decimated to only one or two people from each so we merged.”

“You managed to keep all three territories in the expropriation?” Marlon asks with keen interest.

“The say-what-now?”

“The government tried to make a land grab a couple of decades ago, claiming property of dead people and decimated packs. They started with the ordinary rabble but once they turned their eyes to pack land they ran into trouble. Those of us who were still in the field turned home to declare civil war, got into politics and… well. I’ll tell you the more unsavory details at another time. Or you can ask your father about it. He ought to be old enough to remember.”

“I don’t remember hearing anything about this?” Dick remarks with a troubled wrinkle between his brows.

“No. The government executed a big cover up to keep it from the public. It wouldn’t do us any good if it got known what really happened. A story for another time, kits. Less public. Dean, please go on,” Marlon urges.

Dean looks like he wants to push for details, but changes his mind. “Alright. Anyway, so I hunted, patrolled our territory, and explored. My explorations went further and further away. So, one day I’d driven down this unkempt road I’d never been on before and had to stop because there was a giant-ass tree in the way. I got out and decided to walk in the forest. According to the map, there was supposed to be a town to the east. One of those abandoned ones? I coulda climbed over the tree and walked on the road, but I didn’t cuz it curved around the forest so instead I went straight in the direction of where the town was supposed to be, Right?”

“You chose to walk through uneven underbrush instead of on a road?” Gabe asks dubiously.

Dean chuckles. “Yeah, I did. You find more edibles that way. I mean, I still foraged stuff to bring home to my pack.”

“Then what happened?” Mike probes.

“Any of y’all ever seen a wolfcat in real life?” Dean asks instead, putting down his glass of water to take a sip of his whiskey instead.

“I have,” Marlon answers. “They’re magnificent, intimidating creatures.”

“Only at the zoo,” Mike says while the others shake their heads.

“We’ve seen them sometimes when we’ve been out hunting,” Sam offers. “But only from afar.”

“Yeah. But we never saw a pack. Only the sentries. They’re shy fuckers. Anyway, so I’d been walking for about two hours when I caught its scent. It came from behind me. I was only armed with a knife at the time and I had no wish to try my luck against a wolfcat cuz they’re huge motherfuckers that probably sees us as dinner. So I veered off to avoid it. But then I smelled it again a bit later from the side and veered off again. That shit went on for a while with its scent disappearing and returning in some inconvenient direction…”

Dean’s starting to smell of anxiety and fear, like he dreads revisiting the very memory of the event. Everyone has quieted down to listen.

“Then I look back and I see the fucker in a tree pretty far behind me but close enough for me to see he’s watching me. So I growl a warning while taking my boots and socks off. I pick them up and start running. I know I’m fucked if I have to fight him in the middle of a forest. He’s got an advantage when it comes to moving in the trees. But I see a clearing big as a town square so I run that way. And the fucker jumps down and trots after me…”

“Why would you take your shoes off to run in the woods?” Raff asks curiously.

“I was preparing to fight a wolfcat. See these?” Dean holds out his left hand and morphs, his wicked, long and sharp claws catching the pink and yellow light from the neon decoration on the wall behind him. The Williamses murmur their appreciation and Mike reaches out to touch the claws reverently. “I’ve got these on my feet too,” Dean goes on. “In that environment, I reckoned my greatest chance of surviving a fight with a wolfcat would be having as many weapons as possible because there’s no way I’d be able to outrun him on his home turf. If I’d been on the road I mighta tried running. I told you before, I can sprint like a fiend. And he didn’t look starved so he probably would have given up. But I was in the fucking woods…”

Dean takes another sip of whiskey and runs a hand over his face before he goes on. “So I get to the clearing and slow down, walking towards the middle. The wolfcat stops just by the edge of the clearing and I’m thinking that he’s sizing me up, hesitating, right? But then I hear a rustling behind me, and―” He pauses to run both hands through his hair then rub the back of his neck. “Those fuckers can hide their scent. I didn’t know it, but they can control their scent as if they’re using fucking scent blockers. Like we lose our scent when we’re depressed. Just on and off, like a fucking switch. The wolfcat had been fucking herding me towards his pack and I’d gone straight into a trap. I was surrounded on all sides. I counted 24 of them, all adults. They were in the trees and emerged from the brushes on the ground flaring yellow, blue and red. And the only one I could smell was still the one that had been herding me. I have never ever been so terrified in my life.”

Sam’s feeling total dread. Obviously, the story will end well since Dean’s sitting here telling it, but to hear how close he’s come to lose his brother, never even knowing about it… It makes him nauseous. “How did you get out of it alive?” he asks, mouth dry.

Dean huffs a little humourless laugh. “I, uh, I panicked? I was so afraid I couldn’t think straight. Instinct took over. I can’t possibly tell you why I acted as I did. Since they were wolfcats and not humans… Um. Yeah, so I started making the wandering sound in my chest at the same time as I flared and growled in warning. I told the fuckers I was just passing through but if they tried anything I’d fucking rip them to shreds.” He laughs humorlessly. “Who does that, right? Who’d come up with the idea to make the wandering Omega sound to fucking animals, right? I’m telling you, if I’d had my wits about me I sure as hell hadn’t chosen to do that.”

“That worked?” Mike asks.

“Hell no. Not at first. But three of the bastards suddenly released their scent so I could smell four of them. One of them, a big female, took a couple of steps in my direction and I bent my neck and licked my lips in submission while growling like this,” Dean says then growls with an open mouth that shows him having dropped full fangs and teethed all his teeth. The sound is bone-chilling―a promise of uncompromising death―and would probably have drawn the attention of other patrons in the music wasn’t so loud. “Through it all, I kept up the wandering sound to let them know I wasn’t out to get any of their resources,” he goes on. “But a few more stalk towards me. And my skin is burning, right? Same as my eyes and fucking everywhere. You know, like you get when the body wants to shift instinctively? So I did. I shifted. Hell, I was too fucking terrified to even register the pain of it. My head, my body, I pelted all over. I can’t say how I looked cuz I don’t fucking know. I know that I pelted and my head elongated and got flatter. I think my ears changed shape. My ribcage, neck, hips, feet, fucking _everything_. But it wasn’t a full shift. My basic shape was still mostly human. There was this point where my body just… you could say it said stop? I still had the urge to push past it but when I tried I got vertigo for a bit and stopped.”

Luci jabs an elbow into Mike’s side and says “Shouldn’t you be popping a boner right about now?”

Mike jumps in startlement with a little chirp of surprise when Luci jabs him, too swept up in the suspense of what Dean’s telling him to be ready for ribbing.

Sam remembers how to breathe and laughs shakily.

“I’m not going to get aroused when Dean’s telling us how he almost died,” Mike grouses.

Dean sniggers. The anxiety and fear are fading from his scent. The brotherly teasing is putting him at ease while talking about that. “I dunno, I’d probably make a pretty hot wolfcat,” he jokes and winks at Mike. Then his demeanour gets serious again. “By the time I couldn’t shift any more the wolfcats stop stalking towards me. But I’m kinda hunched over, like this, holding my clawed hands ready. One of them bastards that had been stalking closer sits down and looks at me funny, then goes ‘ _Mrrt?_ ’ which sets off a discussion. I swear they were discussing me. They made sounds that sounded real fucking similar to our sounds. Like a dialect of our own primal language. I stopped growling when the big female sat down too. Only kept up the wandering sound while licking my lips. Ain’t gonna appear to be a threat unless they threaten me, right? Then the female, she suddenly stands up on her hind legs like a friggin whats’emcalled, meerkats? She studies me with those big red eyes for a while, still standing up. She’s had her mouth open so I could see her teeth all the time. Then she goes down on all fours again and her fangs shrink. I know they’re morphs like us, but I’ve never really considered that they do exactly what we do. They’d had their fangs dropped and all of them just… Fuck. They’ve got these cute small, rounded canines that don’t look like fucking death. I’ve never seen that before. Her flare lost its luminosity and she did this exact sound.” Dean makes the sound for ‘stand down, wandering Omega passing through’, the version you use when you need to tell everyone in the pack including those not in near vicinity.

A murmur of surprised exclamations rises around the table. Sam’s absolutely fascinated. That’s a human sound. Sure, he knew humans had evolved from wolfcats. But he didn’t know they were so alike people.

“I know, right?” Dean says. “And as soon as she told ‘em to stand down I could smell them. All of them, like _that_.” He snaps his fingers to demonstrate. “Aside from those I could see, there were at least 7 adults, 5 Juvies and 3 kits out of sight. And all their flares die down except hers. Instead, they had these brown, hazel green, or grey eyes. They part for me and let me out. I ran as soon as I’d cleared the circle. I ran and didn’t stop until I was back in my car. _That’s_ when the pain hit. I was lucky enough to pass out for the gods know how long, but after that, I writhed in agony for days. I didn’t fucking function. Could barely breathe and my heart beating so hard and fast it felt like I was having a heart attack or something. So, yeah, there’s no way it’s possible to do a full shift.”

“What if one did it slowly?” Dick asks. “Instead of a quick shift like we’re used to doing. I know from experience that if you keep your fangs dropped for days it stops hurting. So what if you shifted a little each day without reverting back in between? Let’s say you took a full year to do the shift you did? Maybe your body wouldn’t have that stop you described, then.”

“Yeah,” Sam agrees. “Look. What if we’ve never heard of anyone doing a full shift and live to tell the tale, only because they did it like Dick says and simply never shifted back?” 

“Who cares about that?” Gabe pipes in. “I wanna talk about the giant meerkat wolfcats that speak human language! That is badass!”

“And what happened to your boots?” Raff asks jokingly.

Sam wants to get Dean alone and ask why he’s never told Sam about any of this. Even drunk, he gets why. Dean had been gone for one or two weeks at a time sometimes, dropping in to reconnect and leave provisions. If he’d known this had happened, he’d be freaked out anytime Dean went away. But still.

Watching Dick and Marlon dance is an experience. They are both skilled to a level no non-professional dancers should be allowed to be. Sam refuses to dance as long as they’re on the floor. Eventually, though, Marlon bids them good night and skips out before Dean can bully him into staying longer. The group splits up. Sam dances with Mike and Gabe, (If you can call it dancing. At least he’s having fun.) Dean remains sitting talking with Raff (A little later Dean ends up in Raff’s lap and it takes Sam a while to figure out that they’re doing a polite knotting while talking.), and Luci and Dick are nowhere to be seen, but Sam can smell that they’re still nearby somewhere to his left. They smell mostly content so Sam doesn’t think too much about them...

* * *


	7. Confessions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luci and Dick are getting on famously, but Luci needs to make a confession before it goes too far.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only one more date chapter after this. :) And to think I thought I could fit the whole date in one chapter originally. xD

* * *

“Here,” Luci says and hands over the drink and a glass of water he'd fetched for Dick after they'd stepped off the dance floor. They've found a secluded corner with a small round table meant for standing people. Here all the loudspeakers are turned away from them towards the dance floor, making it surprisingly easy to hear each other talk. His heart is pounding hard in his chest, high on the scent of their joint arousal from dancing an obscene grind. At all earlier occasions they’d danced like this he’s never been completely sure that Dick’s gotten as turned on by it as himself. Now Dick’s entrancing scent slammed the fact that, yes, yes indeed, in his face with no uncertainty. But there’s only so long a man can fight the urge to attach himself to the neck gland of a horny O and simply mount him then and there. (He’d tried that with Dick already at that fateful office party. It didn’t go so well.) The rules Luci’s used to playing by don’t apply to an Omega of Dick’s rank. So he’d said he was getting tired and needed a break (Like hell he did.) and led them off the dance floor.

“Thank you, dear,” Dick says coyly and takes the offering. He drinks half the water before handing it over to Luci, gesturing for him to drink too. Luci accepts the glass back and drains it. His mouth is dry from nerves. He keeps up his deep purr and Dick’s lit by the high red luminosity of his flare, backlit by blue neon, colours glistening on the sweat he’d worked up dancing. Luci’s having dirty thoughts of him lit this way sandwiched between Luci and Mike. He knows it’s because he got worked up on the dance floor and shoves those thoughts away as good as he can. Dick sips his drink and chuckles. “It suddenly struck me that Dean is older than Gabe despite being born later. He presented at thirteen, which means he’s been an adult for almost thirteen years, and Gabe presented at twenty and has only been an adult for a decade.”

Luci chuckles. “You’re right.” Forever the difficulty of telling people’s true adult age since it’s counted from when you present, not from birth. Some things a Juvie’s brain simply couldn’t comprehend no matter how smart and experienced they were. “Hey, can I ask you a question?”

“If you phrase it like that I’m sure it’s one I don’t really want to answer. But go ahead,” Dick answers with a lazy smirk.

Luci licks his lips nervously looking down at his drink. He has a lot of questions. A lot of words that need to be said. Words are hard and get stuck behind his teeth. He doesn’t know where to start. “Is it really my fault you lost your kitling? I don’t want to bring it up and I understand if you don’t want to answer.”

“Why would you think it’s your fault?”

Luci looks up. “You said I said something that made you think we’d never want to have you in our pack. If that’s why you didn’t contact Father… then it’s my fault you nearly died and I lost a sibling.” Another stone on his giant pile of guilt.

“Dearheart, no.” Dick leans in to rub his temple affectionately against Luci’s shoulder and remains leaned against him afterwards. “If we’re going to pin blame on one particular person, it needs to be blamed on Malicia Hale. Do you know who that was?”

“The Hale Main that got murdered by Peter Hale?”

"Quite right."

“How is it her fault?"

Dick is silent for a while pursing his lips. Luci wraps one arm around him and nuzzles his hair, happy to note he's not getting rebuffed. Then Dick speaks. “When I went to college I’d had three mates already.”

Luci whistles in impressed surprise.

Dick chuckles lowly and shifts, turning and stepping in between the table and Luci so he’s boxed in and they’re face to face. “One of them was Peter Hale. I’d had a Juvie crush on him. A cautious kind of crush. I’d stare at him and his friends when they were down by the water, bathing, playing around. I’d be cooped up by the big rocks under the pier, and if they started to take notice of me I’d crawl into a crevice and make myself scarce. My scentlessness was an advantage in that way. I couldn’t be tracked.”

“Why hide? You’ve never struck me as shy?”

Dick laughs then tilts his head to look at Luci with that pitying amusement that marks a wordless ‘Oh, you sweet summer kit…’ “If I tell you how I ended up mated to him, hopefully, you’ll understand why I didn’t just pop up asking if I could play with them,” he chuckles. “Peter and I… we met properly during my second Heat and he was my first knotting. I provided for myself first and foremost by reading to illiterate people. In the slums, money is scarce so we traded with what we had and I was carrying a bag with a grilled chicken that normally would have smelled mouthwatering to me. In fact, normally I’d have eaten it on the spot after getting paid. But I was in Heat and you know what that does to an Omegas appetite.” Dick smiles at the bittersweet memory, eyes going distant as he re-watches it mentally. “He stepped out in front of me with that cocky smirk of his and demanded I hand it over. And you don’t say no to a Hale if you want to live a long and prosperous life in the slums. Packrunning trash like him? He makes one sound and suddenly the place is swarming with Hales. So I was afraid. In an effort not to show if I faked annoyance and held out the chicken to him, telling him I wasn’t hungry anyway since I was in Heat. How’s good old fashioned robbery for a meet cute?” Dick winks. “Anyway, that made him lose interest in the chicken. Instead, he got all excited, asked me to wait, and scuttled off only to come back a few minutes later with a pomegranate. I don’t know if you know it but they’re rare in the slums and it was my first time trying one. He spent my Heat with me and we developed a mating bond during those days…”

“Only one Heat and you didn’t siphon each other?”

“Mhm. Yes. Why look so surprised? You and Sam mated even faster.”

“Yes, but Sam’s been screwing Raff for weeks. Strong emotions, pack bonds and similar scents all play part in that.” Luci huffs in rueful amusement. “As much as I’d like to take sole credit for the connection I doubt it would have happened without Raff and Sam’s affair.”

Dick hums his agreement. “Peter and I didn’t have that. We were simply chemical truemates, if you will. But he left me and didn’t show up again until my next Heat, and next, and so on. Our bond faded between each of our meetings for me and he always greeted me by marking me up to high heavens. Two times I got pregnant and both times I lost the kit within a week of the bond fading. Up until Marlon got me pregnant I thought myself incapable of carrying a kit to term. And I didn’t put two and two together. Didn’t figure out why Marlon’s kit kept growing inside of me until it was too late. He and I didn’t develop a mating bond, after all.”

“Then what was it?”

Dick looks away with a faint smile and the scent of sadness becomes strong. He doesn’t look sad, only wistful, which cuts at Luci because it once again proves how wrong he’s been about Dick and there’s no telling how many times he’s put his foot wrong in the past. He shifts his arms to no longer box Dick in against the table and instead hugs him close. “Crowley wasn’t lying, you know?” Dick says driftingly. “My first encounter with your scent was in a corridor where you’d left a marking. I remained there with my nose pressed against the wall until Crowley swiped the marking off with a handkerchief I could sniff instead or we would have been late for class. I remained blissfully in love until the first encounters with you and Mike. After that, being in love with you was no longer bliss. Perhaps you can understand why?”

Luci makes a wounded sound and Dick looks back at him. “You’re long since forgiven, dear. But you asked what kept the kit growing, and to clarify that I need to make that confession. I left Marlon while he still slept. But not before I’d stolen a handkerchief with his scent along with two vials of his secretion. They lasted me five months. When his scent was removed my kitling died, almost taking me with it. I did not put two and two together. How could I? I was pining. I expected to lose my kit within weeks, not months. Up until then, pregnancies had been convenient ways to delay the discomfort of Heats. And I didn’t contact Marlon because Malicia had killed my trust for Packrunners. It was my firm conviction that I’d be turned away. My pack had taught me that all members of a pack must agree to let someone else join, Malicia had made it apparent that a Main could veto a mating bond―”

"They can't. Not once it's formed. Well. Technically, they can, like you _can_ jump in front of an oncoming train. But the result is about the same.”

“So I noticed,” Dick says with a dark smile on his face.

“You said ‘your’ pack…?”

“Mh. I was asked to read for a European pack consisting of immigrants. War vets all of them. Henry, who’d become my Patriarch and mate, suffered from chronic pain and couldn’t move very well so I was invited into their home. It turned into a repeat performance and I developed a great friendship with all of them until one day they declared I’d been a Siderunner long enough and they’d prefer if I joined them, which I did. I got mated to two of them. The time that followed might have been some of my happiest days. Peter would still waylay me when I worked and sweep me away during my Heats, to begin with. But then my pack told me I didn’t have to work during Heats so I reserved that time for them. They were arms-dealers, selling guns for somebody else for a cut of the money. They didn’t tell me about it. And the Hales had a deal with you...” Dick gives Luci a lazy smile from under heavy eyelids and reaches out to take a sip of his drink. The scent of mourning gets so strong it makes Luci a bit nauseous.

“The first time I saw you… we heard a distress call and came to investigate,” Luci hazards.

“Oh, you remember that? Quite right, dear. We were supposed to make the most frightening sound we’d ever heard. So I made my pack’s distress call.”

“I barely dare to ask…”

“The Hales told them to hand over their firearms, they refused. I knew nothing about it. When I was away working Malicia ordered Peter to lead an attack to confiscate the arms. I ran as fast as my legs could carry me but I was too late. They were all dead. They’d taken out a sizable number of Hales when they resisted, but…” Dick shrugs awkwardly, closes his eyes and presses his nose against Luci’s chest to inhale deeply. Luci hugs him closer, cups the back of his head with one hand and purrs soothingly.

“I’d like to tell myself that if we’d known each other and I’d come to you to negotiate before it happened, you would have been willing to compromise,” Dick adds.

“We would have. Negotiate is what we do.”

Dick laughs and looks up at him with a grin, the mourning traded for something warm and amused. “Crowley said the exact same thing.” 

“You and he still mated?” Luci tries not to sound too hopeful when he asks. He _tries_. He doesn’t want to hurt Crowl by stealing his mate. But he _wants_ to steal his mate.

Dick shakes his head. “We’ve tried. But the bond won’t turn into a mating bond…” Dick has this lazy, drunk smile on his face that does funny things with Luci’s belly. Even more so when Dick leans in close and puts his lips just by Luci’s ear to add “...So I’m available.”

It’s barely above a whisper and it gives Luci goosebumps, sending a shiver down his spine. He _can't_ be wrong about what this means. He reacts on autopilot, picking up his deep purr while turning to nuzzle along Dick’s neck. Dick’s already secreting plentifully, coating the tip of his nose with that silken, oily ambrosia. Dick shifts to lick a stripe up along Luci’s throat, pressing close. Luci growls in appreciation and grabs Dick firmly by the hips, laving at the ear gland, purring. He grinds their dicks together feeling how both of them go from having semis to being rock hard. He drops fangs and presses lightly against Dick’s neck, panting wetly. Dick whimpers breathily and the scent of arousal intensifies. It’s fucking good. It’s all so fucking good… except, it isn’t. It’s bad. It’s bad because tonight is a mark of new beginnings of a sort and he doesn’t want to start off by once again keeping his mouth shut, not apologizing for his worst wrongdoing. It’s bad and he can’t do this.

“I can't do this."

Dick starts pulling away before Luci even realizes he's uttered the words aloud. He's confused for a beat, thinking he snagged a fang on skin or something because of the sudden sting of physical pain in Dick's scent. But it's tightly followed by sadness and Dick's slipping out of his grasp backing away with a frozen smile. “Oh dear. I’ve been reading you all wrong tonight, haven’t I?” Dick says jokingly as he distances himself. As if there’s any way to misinterpret the erection, the scent of arousal, the persistent deep-purring and the affectionate touches. 

One sentence of rejection was all it took to hurt Dick to the point of physical pain. _Fuck fuck fuck._ “No!” Panicking, Luci grabs Dick’s wrist to pull him back, refusing to let go despite being met by resistance. “Whatever you’re thinking right now, you’re wrong. I mean I can’t do this without clearing the air between us about something. You remember when we kissed?” he says desperately.

Dick stops struggling against Luci’s hold with a confused frown. “We’ve never kissed, dear.”

“Yes, we have. Crowley told me you didn’t remember. We’ve kissed. Tongue and everything, at an A-House party.”

Dick jumps to conclusion. “Oh dear. I apologise. I know you don’t kiss. You must have been made terribly uncomfortable. I suppose I’ll have to blame intoxication for my lowered inhibitions, and the Prog I dated as well as your brother for giving me a preference for kissing. I’m sorry.”

Luci blinks in confusion before he manages to get the words Dick are saying to makes sense. “What? ...Oh. _No,_ no, no, no. _**I**_ kissed you!”

Dick frowns and stops resisting Luci’s persistent tug for him to come back and be close. “But, dear heart, you don’t kiss. The only person I’ve ever seen you kiss is Mike.”

“Yeah. Which should be rather telling then, shouldn’t it?”

Dick frowns deeper, eyes wide and uncomprehending. His head jerks in small shakes of denial. His scent is a mix that wouldn’t make any sense unless you put them in the context of what Crowley had said earlier and Dick’s own confessions just recently. Fear is the dominant scent. ‘ _Because he was bonkers for you and you kept rejecting him,_ ’ and ‘ _I remained blissfully in love until the first encounters with you and Mike. After that, being in love with you was no longer bliss._ ’ Luci doesn’t like to kiss. To him, it’s insanely intimate and reserved for people he cares deeply about. He’s kissed two girls in his life that didn’t fall into that category because they wanted it, and both times he’d felt infringed upon and gross, so he doesn’t do it. Dick might not know the specifics but he knows Luci doesn’t like it. 

“I kissed you,” Luci repeats to hammer home the point while he pulls Dick close again, wrapping his arms loosely around him. “You were at the House partying. Mike wasn’t there. He was with Kate. You remember Kate?”

“Oh, yes. Mike’s Progressive girlfriend. A remarkable woman. Whatever happened to her?”

“We don’t know exactly. One day she was just gone. She’d had an offer to transfer to another university to attend a special program. She’d turned it down but without any warning, she changed her mind and left. She broke up with Mike over the phone and stopped taking his calls after that.”

“You must have been thrilled. You never liked her, as I recall.”

Luci winces. “That’s not true. I liked her well enough. She smelled fantastic and she was like you. Way, _way_ out of my league. What I didn’t like about her was that she didn’t want to join our pack and Mike was considering leaving us for her. I hated that she was taking Mike from me. I hated her even more for how heartbroken and devastated Mike was for a full year after she disappeared.”

“I don’t recall him being heartbroken?”

Luci’s refrains from rolling his eyes. Mostly because of how mopey Mike had been the whole year, but partly because they’d both been too stupid to understand that Mike was in love with Dick too, which should have been obvious considering… “That’s because he never was when you were around. That’s not the point. That night? Mike wasn’t at the party, he was with Kate. So he wasn’t monopolizing your attention like he usually was. You came by and you danced. I watched you. I always watched you when I spotted you on the dance floor. But that night I’d been watching you and I saw you leave the dance floor and go out to the back porch, snagging a bottle of booze in the kitchen. You were already drunk. We both were. So I followed you…” He pulls Dick closer so he can lean his forehead against Dick’s and close his eyes. Dick’s quietly listening, waiting for him to go on. “I, uh. You were sitting alone out back, smoking a cigarette, so I sat down beside you… we were so fucking drunk, Dicky. I know it’s no excuse for what I did, but…” He takes a deep, shuddering breath and lets it out slowly. The smell of the anxiety talking about it brings is overwhelming. Dick’s still not talking but he’s resting his hands on Luci’s hip and a thumb rubs back and forth soothingly (undeservedly). He doesn’t dare to look at Dick or the words might get stuck behind his teeth again like so many times before. “So we shared what was in the bottle and shared a cigarette, then another. I, uh, by the third cigarette I got the impulse. It wasn’t the first time I’ve gotten it and it wasn’t the last time, but that’s the only time I gave in to the impulse. I plucked the cigarette from your hand and leaned in to kiss you. I mean a real Prog kiss. I think we were both equally surprised but you still let me, and we made out. Not―, not like tonight. We made out like you used to do with Mikey.”

Luci falls quiet and feels nauseous. It’s not easy for him to tell someone he cares deeply for that he nearly forced the person to have sex with him. He’s so deeply ashamed of his own actions.   
He opens his eyes and reaches for his drink by the table to gain some time. A small pause to drink to bolster himself to go on. Dick’s scent currently gives nothing significant away. He puts the glass back and meets Dick’s gaze. “When I laid you down on the grass in front of the porch you were so drunk you were barely awake. You stopped reciprocating the touches but I went on. I could feel how wet you were and it drove me crazy. You barely kept your eyes open, looking at me through mere slits when I pulled down my zipper. I would have gone through with it. Fuck, I’d started pushing in when Crowley tore me off you. I would have forced myself on you if he hadn’t interfered, and for that I'm sorry. I know I'm just a dumb knothead with no sense, but what I did that night goes against how I’ve been raised and all of my core beliefs. I needed to come clean and apologise. I’ve been keeping my mouth shut like a fucking coward because the next morning when I came to apologise you weren’t there but Crowley was, and he told me you didn’t remember. Like a coward, I thought I’d gotten a free pass, but the guilt kept hounding me. I told myself that since when we made out and you were lucid, you probably wanted it anyway but then you told us about that shifting professor, and… _Fuck._ I’m such a dumb knothead and I’m sorry.” He hangs his head in shame and waits for the verdict.

Dick lets go of him to lean back against the table, resting his elbows over the edge behind him. His scent gives away exactly nothing of import. Neither does his expression. “But are you really?”

Luci looks up in confusion.

“What you’re telling me, it’s a lot to take in for sure. I would have been pissed off the day after. Both at you and Crowley but for different reasons,” Dick clarifies. “You certainly wouldn’t have done anything to me I didn’t want, which is why I’d be pissed off at Crowley. But he knew the truth of my feelings for you so him stepping in between came from a place of caring. I don’t have to ask him to know he wasn’t protecting me from getting knotted by you, but rather the devastating heartbreak that would follow. However… I know I’ve called you a knothead many times, dear. But I don’t think you are.”

“Dicky, I’ve slept with more people than I can remember. During college, I knotted practically anyone who wanted me. How can you say I’m not a knothead?”

Dick huffs in amusement. “Did you know I got invited to move into the Beta house?” He laughs when he sees Luci’s dubious and shocked expression. “That’s right. They knew I wasn’t a Prog. But to them, I was like you. The ideal, exotic, red-eyed Alpha.”

“But you’re not an―”

“To a noseblind? Who favours the knot on the outside?” Dick smirks. “Sweetheart, I was more ideal than you. To them, your gender isn’t as important as your sex anyway. And all the Conservatives Os who wanted to save themselves for their truemate but were thrilled to sleep with a male O because for some reason we don't count. If I wanted to get laid all I had to do was flare, same as you. I bought a fake knot to please these Os who wanted me, and I played the part of an Alpha. If anyone can relate to the kind of attention you get, it’s me. Tell me, dear, does this make me a knothead? Does it make me a knothead that people want to sleep with me?”

Luci shakes his head.

“Then why would it make you a knothead? During all the time I’ve known you, you’ve done nothing but live up to the expectations people have of you. But if I think about it, I’ve never seen you pursue an O who didn’t want your attention which would be the true mark of a knothead. Mike, despite his refined sophistication, would fit that description better.”

The statement rattles something inside of Luci and makes him strangely distressed. He wants to argue and he doesn’t get why. Instead, he steers the subject away from himself. “I don’t remember you sleeping around all that much?”

Dick shrugs. “I don’t like to. I’m by no means one Alpha’s man, but I don’t like random hookups if I can avoid them. I keep myself to a limited number of lovers. Crowley, Chad and Brad, my doctor, Crowley’s friend Balthazar. They’ve all remained my lovers to this day. But back then I traded my company for vials of secretion that I told my partners I used it to manipulate people by smearing it on my skin. In reality, I siphoned it. It’s part of what kept me alive.”

Luci’s stunned. “But you said―”

“I lied,” Dick smirks. “I don’t like to admit to vulnerability, but since we’re doing confessions? My handicap was like being slowly poisoned and siphoning as well as unsafe sex and scent bonds are the antidotes that kept me alive. So. You said I was out of your league?”

Luci huffs in amusement, recognising the panic of confessing too much for what it was. “Yes. I’ll be honest. You and me? It wasn’t _Coup de foudre_. Bluntly speaking, there was no scent to tell me who you were so I had to discover it by hanging out with you. But it amounts to the same. We spoke about ideal mates during dinner. I never said anything then but if I would have, I would have listed personality traits, not physical traits. You check them off. But Os like you don’t care for me. Like you told me once, your kind isn’t dazzled by a pair of red eyes, Alpha bluster and physical attributes. You need more and I can’t fucking talk to an O without putting my foot in. And you? I started out by joking about your death. I’d have to be twice as good at courting you to stand a chance.”

Dick laughs, smelling happy and content once more. “Twice? Try ten times as good. I couldn’t risk a temporary liaison with you since heartbreak could turn lethal for me. Why do you think I kept going to the Omega Run? I was fawning over you just like everybody else. But I needed steady lovers and you didn’t even keep to the same O for a single night. If it’s true what you told me about us almost getting it on then I can guarantee I was willing, if somewhat incapacitated. What can I say? ‘ _I like big knots and I cannot lie, you other Os can’t deny,_ ’” Dick sings with a grin, wiggling his ass a bit in tune to the old hit song by Sir Knot-A-Lot. Luci feels all bubbly and an involuntary giggle escapes him. Dick goes on. “I would have been pissed at you the day after when you discarded me. But most of all I would have been heartbroken. You kept saying things, repeatedly stating that you wouldn’t allow me to be part of the pack. Your constant rejection was better than giving in and being discarded afterwards.”

“I wouldn’t have, though,” Luci says softly. “I’m not saying we wouldn’t have had big problems. I would have been a jealous asshole and only allowed Mike to touch you aside from me if you’d decided to give me the time of day. I don’t think you would have tolerated that.”

“We’ll never know. And now? If I give you the time of day now? Will you discard me tomorrow?”

Luci shakes his head, puts a finger under Dick’s chin and leans in to kiss him, heart rabbiting in fear and excitement. Dick reciprocates, opening up to let their tongues meet. That slick warm glide that is so strange and grody when it’s with someone who doesn’t make your heart pick up speed and your soul to do summersaults but with Dick it sets off fireflies dancing under his skin and sends his belly on a swooping rollercoaster ride. Dick’s arms wrap around him, pushing closer and kissing hungrier, fangs dropping. Luci drops fangs too when he feels Dick doing it. He does it a bit too fast, almost recoiling in horror when he inadvertently bites Dick’s tongue and tastes blood. But Dick fucking purrs in response and runs his tongue over the point of the sharp canine that just pricked him. Unlike last time they kissed Luci can smell Dick’s arousal. There’s no second-guessing the semi when he grabs Dick by the hips to grind them together, the scent of happy, content Omega wrap around him like a balm for his insecurities. “I was so jealous of Chad, Brad, and Crowley for doing what I couldn’t,” he confesses against Dick’s lips. “I felt spiteful towards you for always putting me in my place, but _fuck_ , I wanted you.”

Dick pulls up Luci’s shirt from where it’s tucked into his pants, his hands find their way under the hem to touch skin and scratch lightly with short claws, sending shivers down Luci’s spine. “You know what their secret was? They purred for me. I’d be conversing with Alphas and they’d stop mid-conversation to deep-purr some pretty-smelling O passing by, while I was invisible to them. But Crowley would follow me around campus purring as if he could smell me. You want to talk about spite and jealousy? I loathed both you and every fucking O down at the Run because you purred for them. I wanted to run for you so badly you wouldn’t believe,” he confesses in turn.

“I said I didn’t ever want to get mated to soften the sting of Omegas I was interested in not being interested in me. Every time I imagined being mated I modelled my dream mate after you. But I was afraid to be made a fool of so I never tried to make a pass at you. I gave up before even trying to avoid getting hurt.” Luci shifts to suck at Dick’s neck gland. Dick stifles a keen, birthing a sense of urgency to make up for lost time. “Even when I just presented you with the idea of you and me you shot me down. Remember when you burnt the school down and I said we spent the night together to give you an alibi? You were so adamant we hadn’t done anything except sleeping. I took that as proof of you not wanting me.” He lets his hands roam inside of the suit jacket, feeling the lean but surprisingly muscular body hidden by the thin button down.

Dick lets out a short laugh then seeks his mouth again. They grind together as they had on the dance floor but now making no pretence of wanting anything other than getting gratification and closeness. “I said that because I couldn’t stand the thought of pretending to be with you without actually getting the satisfaction of being knotted by you. I’ve turned down every offer of promotion from my current position because it would take me out of state and I didn’t want to be away from your scent.”

“When you came into my office to negotiate your raise you smelled like Dean. You hadn’t needed to do that, I just played along since you offered an excuse to touch you the way I wanted to.”

“Chad and Brad knew about my crush. When Brad was in Rut he once stole a Nine Inch Claws shirt from you after you’d played sports. He gave it to me and let me wear it when he knotted me. I still have it.”

“That’s where it went? I wondered about that.” Luci pulls down the back zipper of Dick’s Omega pants and lets out an involuntary gasp when he feels how wet Dick is. “I’ve slept at the office more often than I actually need to, in hopes of you coming in early. Those little moments belong to the best parts of my months for me.”

“For me too. I…”

Confession upon confession is traded between greedy hands and mouths getting increasingly desperate. Luci pulls a condom out of his pocket with fumbling fingers that don’t want to leave Dick’s body for a minute. “Are Sam and Dean going to be a problem for you?” he breathes into Dick’s neck.

“No. Are Chad and Brad?”

“Probably, yes. But I’ll manage. My jealousy is based on insecurity, not an unwillingness to share.” He puts on the condom and resolutely lifts Dick up. They’re still face to face because he doesn’t want to stop kissing. Dick wraps his arms around his neck and legs around his midriff to help hold himself up. “Yes or no?” Luci asks.

For a beat, there’s the faintest hint of distress in Dick’s scent. It’s barely there and well hidden under all of his other emotions. “Tomorrow?” The question makes sense coupled with tonight’s confessions and the scent of distress.

“We’ll name our firstborn Aiden. Everyone will be so disappointed when he or she is born with gorgeous golden eyes, but you’ll never see a prouder father than I regardless,” Luci answers. It’s a pledge holding so much more than just tomorrow. It's a declaration of hope for a long and comfortable life together. Dick makes a trilling noise of happiness and lowers himself over Luci's dick.

Luci will admit that what follows isn't his proudest moment.

It's a first time that deserves time to be taken to explore each other, get to know Dick's body and see what makes him gasp, shiver, and keen. It deserves better than pressing in with a firm grasp on Dick's ass cheeks in a way that demands he holds himself up by holding on with arms and legs. It deserves better than a feral bite on Dick’s shoulder to keep him in place, better than starting to fuck into him straight away with commanding urgency for a few minutes before he feels his climax closing in and his knot beginning to swell. Almost 20 years of buildup shouldn’t be allowed to culminate like this.

But Dick’s keening, sharp fangs digging into Luci’s shoulder piercing clothes and skin alike, much like Luci’s own are doing to him. Claws leave reddish welts on Luci’s neck and Dick’s eyes are shining so brightly they’re creating a red spotlight, lighting up their secluded corner as if their union is nothing more than an art installation. For once, Luci doesn’t care if anyone is watching them or not. He takes no heed of other scents or sights than the ones in front of him.

Back in college, he’d been so sure Dick didn’t want him. He couldn’t stand the thought of Mike and Dick getting accidentally mated, Dick being made part of the pack and _still_ not want him. Because of that, he’d stopped Mike from committing blunders that would have ended with an accidental mating bond. His own jealousy, cowardice and insecurities had bereaved them of 20 fucking years. Then Dick and Crowley got mated and it was good. It was good because he trusted Crowley to do right by Dick in a way he himself was incapable of. His feelings towards Crowley have always been an abstruse mess. He loves the guy and loathed him, trusts him with his life but doesn’t want to turn his back to him, admires him and envies him. Seeing Crowley fills him with affection and disdain all at once. But he’s always respected him and the moment he smelled the mating bond on Dick he marked Dick as forever off-limits with the occasional forgetfulness when the bond was faded.

This finally happening, is surreal. He’d never thought he’d be able to catch the interest of someone like Dick, Dean, or even Sam, by being himself.

Instead of slowing down when he feels himself getting close, he tips his head back, closes his eyes and gives in, coming with a roar.

Dick lets go of his neck and drops away backwards when the knot has swelled to its full size. He’s keening but Luci momentarily panics, smelling pain. He opens his eyes to see that Dick’s put his elbows on the table behind him to support himself, hanging between him and the table with an almost manic grin on his face. Then the fucker _moves_. He starts rolling his hips tugging on Luci’s knot, _milking him_. Luci’s fucking gone. He has to let go of Dick’s ass to lean forward and brace himself against the table, keening a purr like a fucking O, spasming as the second wave of orgasm hits him almost instantly.

There are people who think they like big knots, but once they’ve got one in them they figure out that, no, no they don’t. Luci hates that. He hates the bad conscience it brings knowing he’s hurting them but not being able to pull out or even move because he’s not hurting them enough for them to skunk. He much prefers those who know they can’t take his knot and asks him to knot outside. He’s a 100% fine with that. In fact, he likes it since he doesn’t have to be so damn careful. Then there are people like Sam that love the feeling of being filled up to the verge of pain but can't really handle Luci moving unless they're in a state of ecstasy already. And that’s great. Once worked up like Sam and he had been at the bar, a little tug doesn’t bother them.

But then there's the rare type of people like Mike and Dick who wholeheartedly love big knots. Even before Luci grew tired of endless, pointless hookups he’d come across someone like Dick maybe every second year, Mike excluded. To hear Dean talk, he too might be one of those rare snowflakes. If that’s the case, the stars must have aligned _juuust_ right to make sure three out of three potential mates all could take him and appreciate it. It’s nothing short of a miracle.

Back when he was a little kit he remembers being sad about Father and auntie Amara arguing in another room. He’d sat snug in uncle Aiden’s lap snivelling at the sharp scents of anger and muted sounds of roaring and growling while Aiden purred soothingly and sorted puzzle pieces to the giant puzzle on the table in front of them. He asked why everyone couldn’t just get along and love each other, wondering why adults had to fight. Aiden answered ‘Do you know why us Packrunners don’t believe in truemates?’ Luci shook his head and Aiden went on to explain. ‘People are unique and ever changing. We have our likes and dislikes but you can love somebody even if you don’t agree with them on everything. Like you and Mikey. Mikey loves musical theater but you prefer to listen to grunge and alternative rock like your father. But you still love Mikey, right?’

Luci nodded. Mikey was mean sometimes but he was also the best big brother ever.

Aiden reached for one piece of the puzzle on the table and held it up. ‘People are like pieces of a puzzle. We have different edges and hollows that match with other pieces.’ He took another piece and held them up, showing Luci how he tried to match them together forcibly where they didn’t fit. ‘Sometimes people argue because they try to fit where the shapes don’t match.’ He turned the pieces around and tried to match them until they clicked together seamlessly. ‘Sometimes the arguments are simply us trying to figure out how we fit with each other, turning our pieces. Then, as is the case with your father and Amara…’ He reached to grab a piece from another pile of a different colour and tried to match it with the original piece. ‘...Two people trying to fit together when they clearly have not a single edge or hollow that matches. They need buffer pieces to fit. But in a pack everyone don’t have to match, because when we find our place in the puzzle we make a beautiful picture anyway.’ He pointed at the box the puzzle had come from to demonstrate. ‘That’s why we argue, and that’s why we don’t believe in truemates. If you go around looking for one that will fit all your edges you’ll forget to spin your piece and miss out on wonderful people that otherwise would have filled your heart with joy. And pieces that belong together have an uncanny way of finding their way to the right puzzle even in the world where all the puzzles are poured together in one pile.’

That explanation had influenced Luci a lot. Growing up, he trusted his brothers’ good sides to make up for his own shortcomings, letting them be the buffer pieces that allowed him to be friends with people like Dick. Yet somehow, fear of not fitting had kept him from twisting his piece.

The memory blips by between one heartbeat and another before his brain completely disengages higher functionality. Now he’s barely even able to keep his knees from buckling. He can’t remember having seen Dick do anything remotely athletic aside from dancing yet Dick’s holding himself up all by himself in a way that must be straining for thighs and arms alike, and the undulating movement he’s doing to squeeze and pull at Luci’s knot must be a killer for his abs.

When Dick comes he jackknives, pulling Luci close with a jerk of his legs. Luci has the presence of mind to get an arm under him. Barely. Dick remains hanging while gasping for air with a blissful expression. He looks up at Luci with hooded eyes, sweat glistening on his face and a lazy smirk playing on his lips. “Dear me. This might be the most inconvenient position I’ve ever been knotted in,” he says lightheartedly.

Luci can’t help himself. A giggle comes bubbling up from inside of him, making him feel like his whole body is filled with fizzy bubbles popping. Dick starts to giggle too, both of them giddy. Luci shifts position to get both hands under Dick again to help support him and leans them firmly against the table. “Don’t worry. If you keep still I’ll be able to hold you up. But if you keep milking me my legs might buckle.” He rests his forehead against Dick's and purrs his contentment. Theoretically, they could sit down on the floor and both be more comfortable. But a stubborn part of him doesn't want to. It’s too ingrained in him to want to show off what a big, strong Alpha he is. Plus, Dick's syncing their purrs, showing no sign of displeasure at their position.

A moment of stillness passes between them while they keep their positions wearing smiles and closed eyes. Luci revels in the smell of shared joy. He’s barely aware of the smells and sounds beyond them―the music, voices, clinking of glass from the bar. All he’s truly aware of is sensation and the sound of their rough breathing. Then the third wave of orgasm hits him, making him stagger and growl before he regains his balance. Dick tips his head back and laughs, carefree and delighted. “And tomorrow?” he asks again when he looks back at Luci.

Luci scrunches up his face and tilts his head to the side. “How do you feel about the name Jack for our second kit?”

Dick giggles. “She’ll have the most beautiful blue eyes. People will be disappointed but you’ll never see a more proud dad than I.”

Luci grins at him. Too many times over the years people have reduced him to the colour of his eyes. As if the only valuable trait he had to pass on was that. Maybe that’s why Aiden never had kits? The pressure is crushing. But if anyone can relate it would be Dick.

Dick breaks their gaze to look at a point on Luci’s chest, his smile gets sad even if his scent doesn’t. “I’m deathly afraid of becoming pregnant and not losing it within weeks. After what happened the last time… I’ve told everyone, myself included, that I don’t want kits, but…” _it’s a lie_. Luci hears the unspoken loud and clear.

“I told everyone, including myself, that I didn’t want to get mated, but…” Dick looks up when Luci speaks. Luci gives him a skewed smile. “Even as a Juvie I had adults approach me and ask when I thought I would present and as what,” he says and chuckles at Dick’s shocked and grossed out expression. “I didn’t get why it made me so uncomfortable. It seemed like innocent enough questions.”

“I should think _not_. It’s reprehensible that an adult would even think to ask a Juvie when they’ll be available to fuck.”

Luci nods his agreement. “True. Plus, I don’t know how many times Os have asked me to skip the condom.” He grimaces. “The fuck do they think? That I’d be okay with fathering a kit and not be allowed to raise it? No way. I know many Alphas will agree to it, thinking that if they don’t know about the kit they won’t care. I could never do that and I don’t think anyone in my family can.” He huffs in amusement, thinking of the warmth in his chest kitlings ignited. “You should have seen Gabe when he was a kitling. His little tail hasn’t grown in length when he did it, so when he was a kitling it was almost as long as his legs. It wags when he’s happy so when he slept on your chest you’d wake up by a steady thumping when he had good dreams.” Luci’s wistful smile is traded for a grimace. “When he was born one doctor suggested that if we wanted to save the cost of a surgery we could tie a rubber band at the base of the tail and it would die and fall off by itself.”

Dick gasps, sudden rage spiking in his otherwise content scent. “Oh dear. Who would ever come up with such idea? Not only would it be excruciatingly painful, but tissue doesn’t die evenly and fast, and the little blood that does manage to slink by would carry infection into the body.”

Luci nods gravely. “Mhm. Yeah. I know. It’s the only time I’ve seen Aiden in a killing rage. Dad was already fighting for his life losing the battle and that asshole suggests we maim the kitling? That doctor didn’t survive long after he went home that day. Anyway, to get back on topic, it never occurred to me that I could do what you did and hide my red eyes. Aiden owned his, flaring more often than not and milking it for all it was worth. So I did what he did. But I’d hear them talk. Bragging about having been with the red-eyed Alpha when I had my back turned. Not ‘I’ve been with Lucifer’, no, it was always ‘I’ve been with the red-eyed Alpha’. The same Os would be the ones to give me the prettiest smiles and suggest we get mated. On the inside I was thinking ‘Say my name, bitch’ and outwardly I waved them off with the excuse of not wanting to get mated, lying to myself and my family until I almost believed it. But lies like that get harder to keep up the older you get.” He closes his eyes and leans their foreheads together. “I want to court you for a mateship,” he says almost too quietly to be heard over the thumping bass in the background.

“You don’t think Marlon will oppose me?” Dick answers with an equally hushed voice.

Luci huffs in humourless amusement. “Father has been preparing to die since Aiden passed away. Everything he does he does to secure a happy pack without him. He wouldn’t even have been here today if Dean hadn’t demanded it.”

Dick draws breath as if to respond but a voice to their side startle them both. “Woah. Yeah, no. That ain’t happening. I’ll rip your old man out of thoughts like that if I so will have to drag him out of it kicking and screaming.” Dean’s there, wrapping an arm around the backs of both of them giving additional support and rubbing his temple affectionately against Dick’s shoulder. Raff stands not far behind. “I can see you two lovebirds are getting along awesomely and I ain’t planning to bug you for long, but I want to know if you gonna come home with Sam an’ me or if you’re stayin’ with your boy tonight?” Dean asks Dick with a big grin.

Luci’s heart skips a beat at so easily being referred to as ‘your boy’ by Dick’s Main. Same as Dick having referred to Sam as ‘your mate’ since he smelled the bond on Luci at the office that day Dick had gotten his scent. It’s an easy acceptance that turns Luci into a complete sap.

Dick chuckles. “I’m a little tied up at the moment.”

“I can see that,” Dean answers with a smirk. “But so is Sam. I talked to on the phone a minute ago and he’s at the hotel down the block with Gabe and Mike. They’re also talking while waiting for knots to go down but apparently they’re discussing ‘The Infernal O’ by Richard Downbow. Not that I’d choose to start a book club post-knotting, but hey! Each to their own, right? Anyway, we’re leaving in forty five minutes. You coming with?”

Dick purses his lips and looks at Luci thoughtfully. “We’ll have tomorrow, right, dear?”

Luci smiles and gives him a nod in confirmation. “We’ll always have tomorrow as long as you want it.”

Dick turns his face towards Dean. “Then, yes. I’ll come with you…”

Luci’s a 100% okay with that. Tonight’s given him a lot to process, but more than that - it makes him hopeful for the future…

* * *


	8. Finding One's Place

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dick comes home with the Winchesters. To him, it ends up being a rather monumental experience.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last date chapter. Next installment will be snapshots of life that in part will be a way of jumping in time, and in part answering questions I've gotten or give general clarifications. So feel free to add thoughts and questions in the comments even if they don't relate directly to this chapter. 
> 
> Also, we've seen what goes on in this chapter before but then from the outside. This time we're along for the ride. :)

* * *

Dean leads the way into the small apartment gesturing grandly. “Welcome home. It ain’t much in comparison to your own apartment but it works for us,” he tells Dick. If anyone had any doubts as to if Dean truly was high ranking they’d only have to step out of a cab on the Winchesters’ block. There are scent markings _everywhere_. Even a Hale would tread lightly around here until they knew exactly what they were dealing with. It simply isn’t done like this. Oh, sure, the Hales did it. They marked out an inner territory around their apartment complex that you had to be extra careful to traverse. But they are a pack of who knows how many and the Winchesters are a mere pack of two. … _Three,_ Dick corrects himself. He’s part of the pack now. Either way, to mark out a whole block you committed to defending it and you had to be sure of your own abilities to do so. One might consider what Dean’s done hubris, but Dick doesn’t think so. He thinks the Winchesters can bring it if needed. The way he’d interacted with the few people up and about on the way from the cab and into the apartment speaks for it. He’d said hello to everyone by name, stopped to exchange a few words with the homeless guy sleeping just outside the cage around the apartment entrance, waved and hollered a greeting at two passersby, making a friendly pun related to their professions, and asked the Juvie coming down the stairs how her mother was doing. It’s another persona than he shows at work, one that matches the prosperity of his scent and the leadership he’s grown up with. The people living in this block might initially have been stressed out by the scent markings, but once they’d met Dean and gotten to know who he was, they most likely would have relaxed. Like the homeless guy giving Dean a short update of someone lurking at the edge of the territory, seeming up to no good.

That’s the thing, though. The culprit hadn’t entered the marked-up block. Just like the people who’d been accepted to live in the blocks surrounding the Hale homestead are the safest people in the slums. When Dean had told them the Winchesters patrolled the territories that once had belonged to three packs, Dick had assumed he’d patrolled wilderness. This makes him consider that perhaps the town in itself be part of the territory, keeping track of and protecting people living there despite them not being part of any pack. He’ll have to ask Sam and Dean about it someday.

Sam takes his suit jacket and hangs it beside the door when he shrugs out of it. He sees Dean toe his shoes off and follows suit before walking in to explore. It isn’t a big apartment but it’s clean and has everything you might need―TV, a radio, books, a desk to write by, a bathtub and a toilet that flushes with water, a big bed. All the windows are occupied with pots filled with lush greenery―tomato plants, lettuce, cucumber, peppers, beans, parsley, dill, chives, thyme, rosemary, basil, strawberries and other things Dick can’t name. By the look of it, the balcony is much the same. It makes the whole apartment smell wonderful. He ignores the brothers' jovial chatter and goes to inspect the cupboard in the kitchen to find jars with different sliced, dried mushrooms, all marked with Dean’s handwriting. Dick recognises the name of some and wishes he’d known they were edible back when he was still living in the slums. Some of the things in the cupboard are obviously bought, but what interests Dick the most is the things that aren’t. Like the mushrooms, jars of nuts, and… “You make the bread yourself?”

“Yup. I make the dough once a week before going to work, then I come home to curse about how it’s risen and overflowed, then I knead it and shove it into the oven, basically. If I’m lucky Sam’s done the cursing and baking part already.”

“Dean. If I do it I knead the dough _before_ it’s overflowed. I don’t _need_ to curse at it.”

Dick smiles at the drunken giggles behind him but doesn’t look up from his inspection. 

“Hey, man, if you’re hungry, just help yourself,” Dean tells him.

“No, thank you, dear. Just sating my curiosity.”

The freezer holds fish, meat, more bread and vegetables. In the fridge, he finds homemade pickles, marmalades, lemonade, and preserves, but also milk, cream, homemade butter, as well as two blocks of cheese that make his heart skip a happy beat when he recognises the name of the store on the paper wrapping. It’s from a store in the slums that have absolutely great cheese to affordable prices. If the store had been located in a better part of the city the prices would have been five to ten times as high. All in all, his inner slum-kit is having a mental orgasm from all the non-bought food.

When he finally ends his tour of the apartment and returns to the brothers, Dean’s sprawled on the chair by the desk and Sam’s sitting on the bed. 

“So. Which one of you have the blanket fetish?” Dick asks jokingly. There are blankets folded all over the place. Knitted, crocheted, sewn, neatly arranged to blend into the background and not be in the way.

Dean throws his head back laughing. “Dude. I suck at needlework and so does Sam. Anytime someone offers a blanket in trade I say yes. We had one winter when we were kits when it was so fucking cold we couldn’t go out. Bobby moved in with us and all of us stayed in the living room with the fireplace burning full force and we still were fucking cold. You remember that, Sammy?”

“I do,” Sam answers with a dopey grin. “I remember us all sleeping in this giant pile of blankets together, spending the days telling stories and drinking tea. Bobby reading to us from his giant collection of books. That was before Cas came, right?”

“Yup. It was.”

“I remember that winter,” Dick says and goes to lounge on the bed beside Sam. “It was a year or two before I presented and the coldest winter in the recorded history. I abandoned my apartment to go live in a hollow in the facade above a bakery. It was about as wide as a coffin alongside the masonry of the chimney pipe, just between two floors. I spent most of the winter pressed up against that chimney, warm and insanely bored. I only went out to steal bread from the bakery and to take care of my bowels.”

“Wow. You can’t have claustrophobia if you’re going to live like that,” Sam states.

Dick chuckles. “Certainly not. But agility and the penchant for squeezing into tight spaces where nobody could follow was part of what kept me alive. I can, and frequently did, dislocate my own shoulder to fit through spaces I otherwise wouldn’t have fit through.”

Dean whistles, impressed, while Sam winces. “That hurts so much! When I dislocated my shoulder I had to wear a brace for weeks,” Sam says.

“That’s because you’re a sensitive little kitling who can’t handle pain,” Dean teases.

“No, I’m _not_. Screw you,” Sam bites back with one of his remarkable bitchfaces.

Dick chuckles and tips to the side to lie with his head in Sam’s lap. “Oh, it definitely hurts. But it was better than dying, which was often the other option. I was something of a little runt. People predating on other people often mistook my scentlessness for me being on the verge of death already and didn’t pull their punches like they would against a healthy kit.”

“They can’t all be that bad even in the slums, can they?” Dean asks.

Dick shakes his head awkwardly in Sam’s lap. “Of course not. Good hearted people can be found everywhere. There were always those who’d stick a bun, a sausage, or a candy cane in the hands of a little orphaned kit with no scent. When I was recently orphaned there were also those who offered me to live with them. But I wasn’t exactly a trusting kit, and some of those people weren’t offering out of kindness. Kit slavery is a thing, you know? Thankfully, the Hales always came down hard on people they caught catching and selling orphans for labour. It wouldn’t surprise me if that too was part of their deal with the Williams pack.”

“What deal?” Sam asks and pets his hair with wonderful, long fingers.

“Yeah. I feel like I’ve missed out on some important stuff. Like you having run in packs before. Something musta gone way wrong for you to flip into complete denial about it. Care to give us the deets so I don’t put my foot wrong and repeat someone else’s mistake?” Dean chips in.

“Oh, don’t worry about that. Unless you’re hiding some big pack secret from me you’ve already proven you’re different from those who wronged me. You’re not secretly arms dealers, are you?”

Dean huffs. “Nope. I get my hands on a firearm I’m gonna keep it. If shit goes to hell it’ll keep me better fed than the money will.”

“Oh? Planning a career as a robber?”

Both Sam and Dean snigger. “No. I was thinking of hunting and self-defense. Don’t get me wrong. If that’s what it takes to keep my pack safe and sated then I’ll hold no bars. None. I’ll do what I have to. But that’d be the last resort, if you get what I’m sayin?”

“Yeah,” Sam agrees. “If I can choose between helping people and hurting them I’ll always go for helping them. Only if it’s between the pack and them would I choose a different route.”

Dean nods along. “Exactly. But don’t go misjudging Sammy over his mushy heart. Piss him off and he’s one of the scariest fighters I’ve come across. Granted, I’ve never seen him fight an actual human enemy, but one time I got attacked by a bear and Sam went like, ‘ _Oh no, you didn’t!_ ’ and launched himself at the bear. We had bear meat to last us through the winter. And that’s when he was still a beanstalk of a Juvie. I’d loathe to see what he’d do to a bear _now_. It’d be too fucking mauled to be eaten.”

“I’m not that bad,” Sam protests with a snigger.

"You keep telling yourself that, but there's a reason why I tease you from afar after you've growled a serious warning.” Dean winks.

Sam laughs. "He's exaggerating. Don't listen to him," he tells Dick with a dimpled smile.

Dick smirks. “Oh, I'm sure he's correct. I do, however, find it telling of his character when he says you can maul a bear just to in the next breath admit to teasing you after you've given warning.” It makes both brothers laugh and Dick himself purr in contentment.

“Will you tell us about your pack?" Sam asks.

"I suppose it's only fair.” Dick launches into telling them about his past. When he comes to the death of his pack the lighthearted mood is traded for a somber one. Sam smells of saline from tears that never leave his eyes and Dean looks like cold murder but purrs a comforting purr in his breastbone tract that makes it easier to talk about it. Dick tells them about almost dying, Peter saving him, pack bonding to Laurent and Peter, the wanderlust. He even goes on to tell them about Crowley’s behaviour and how it helped him once he came to college.

Dean runs a hand over his face with a serious expression. “No wonder your tongue slips onto Packrunning Trash when you’re upset.”

“I apologise for that.”

Dean shakes his head. “That’s never bothered me. The way I see it, if I’m supposedly the lowest garbage that can come out of Packrunning, then our worst is still better than the other designations’ best.” He winks with a brief smile. “But that Malicia sure as hell demonstrated the worst of our kind. Behaviour like hers happen in packs where either everyone wants to be Main and Patriarch, or when someone is too concerned with keeping power rather than using it for the good of the pack. The pack’s fear you described speaks for option number two. There are highly militaristic packs too, but they can be smooth and well-oiled machines where everyone is damned happy and nobody’s afraid. I’ve met packs like that when they stopped by to pay their respect to dad and Bobby. What you’re describing is fucking _insane_. There’s only one reason to send Peter after your pack and that’s a blatant power display to put him in his place. How she supposed she'd keep his trust after that is beyond me.”

“But how could there be two Patriarchs? I don’t get it? Shouldn’t the next Omega in line become Main?” Sam asks with a concerned frown, still petting Dick with his long, delightful fingers.

Dean shakes his head. “Dude. Under circumstances like Dick told us about, it makes perfect sense. A Main acting like Malicia should rightfully have been challenged for the position by any of the other Os. She wasn’t, or she was and kept winning. So what Peter did wasn’t just slaying his Main, it was challenging her for the position. He ain’t gonna hand the position off to any of the Os who’d failed to protect him before he took action. Fuck, I wouldn’t if I had to usurp a Patriarch. From what I gather this Laurent guy was cool, but already dying. He still had Peter’s trust or he woulda been killed too. Same as any O trying to lead at that moment. If they _still_ don’t have a Main that would be another matter. But if I was Peter I’d probably waste Alphas and Omegas alike showing the slightest inclination to challenge me until I was sure those who remained were trustworthy.”

"Wouldn't a Main like Malicia give people wanderlust?” Sam asks.

"What for?”

"You said you worried about me getting wanderlust.”

"Oh, you mean when you were busy sneaking behind my back with Raphael? Yeah, you're not off the hook on that. We're gonna have a ‘ _chat_ ’ about it, just so you know. But to answer your question, no. Not in a huge pack like the Hales. They're living the high life compared to everyone in the area and they’d have lots of people in the pack that they love and care about. Why would they wander? You, on the other hand, had only me. Every fault I made woulda impacted on how you felt.”

“Oh, yeah. That makes sense,” Sam muses. Dick reaches up to rub a finger along Sam’s neck and puts the finger in his mouth to lick it off. They’re all glistening on their throats and necks after tonight’s activities and the impulse to taste had simply struck him. Sam’s gaze jumps to Dick. “Can I siphon you now?” he asks eagerly as if he’s been waiting all night to do that. Maybe he has?

Dick chuckles and sits up, then he hooks his hand around Sam’s neck to pull him in and attach himself to Sam’s neck gland―a nonverbal ‘YES!’ that Sam can’t misunderstand. Sam wraps his arms around him and reciprocates. They lean their foreheads against each other’s shoulders and start pushing scent into their sensitive receptors. Sam might be drunk but he’s healthy like a horse, the budding start of a mating bond, no pains or aches, though there is a faint strain of underlying anxiety that seems to be pretty permanent judging by the scent. Dick would worry about what Sam is picking up about him, but he’s too drunk to care and the drowsy, detached feeling of a siphon high is taking over. He rubs his nose against Sam’s ear gland to stimulate it for more secretion and notes how the new secretion is milky white instead of clear. They repeat the licking and rubbing. It's hypnotic and narcotizing. Sam purrs and Dick follows, syncing frequency. He feels drunk, high, tranquil, and can smell arousal but can barely separate his own scent from Sam's. The affection he already felt for Sam appears to multiply, as if his heart is welling in his chest with happiness to be here with the young man. Sam's nose trails along his cheek to his mouth, lips dragging along his, tasting his exhale. Dick opens his mouth to taste Sam. That’s when something changes, something happens that’s never happened before.

Aggression flares up inside of him out of nowhere while they kiss. It doesn’t in any way lessen his affection and it’s not anger. His fangs are dropping, ache dulled by the high. He can feel that Sam’s fangs are elongating as well. His heart rate goes up, excited and leaking slick he pushes Sam away to growl threateningly at him only to be met with an equally fierce expression. But he needs more. Grabs Sam by the shirt to pull him back in, rubs his temple and neck glands where he can reach to mark Sam, twists to lick hungrily at his leaking gland then lean his forehead against Sam’s shoulder to siphon. Instinct is his sole guide.

Sam rubs his temple against Dick to mark him up, fumbling to get his shirt off while he siphons. Naked. Naked is a good idea. They should be naked already. The high Dick’s experiencing is as trancelike as ever but fuelled with an intensity that’s never been there before, intent and aggressive, hyper-focused and oblivious all at once. He’s aware that Dean’s in the room rumbling encouragingly, aware of the scent of excitement and arousal from three people, aware of the dusky light that makes his and Sam’s flares extra bright, aware of the room. But you could probably drive a truck through the wall and he wouldn’t as much as twitch unless it was coming between the two of them. It’s a state of complete non-thinking, need-driven urgency. They should be naked. He rips Sam’s shirt open so buttons fly everywhere. Sam blinks at him and grabs his shirt to yank it open forcefully enough to propel Dick forward into his lap. Dick scrambles up to growl mouth agape to show off his fangs face twisted in insanity and rage―rage he doesn’t feel―pulling to get Sam’s arms free from the offending garment. Sam gapes his own threat, eyes wide open under brows pulled down in a deep scowl, fangs long and fearsome, growl deep.

Dick roars at him and dives in for a kiss. Every single gland they have is leaking profusely, coating them in wonderfully scented silky oil. Sam kisses like he means it while helping Dick out of his shirt. They close their eyes and mark each other up while fingers play along heated skin. Back to lick at the secreting glands, followed by a moment of stillness where all that can be heard is their grunting and Dean’s continuous approving rumble. Fingers fumble for pant buttons and zippers. Despite their outward aggression, the only emotions detected by siphoning is fervid joy, excitement and arousal. Then Sam tries to push Dick down to lie on his back but something deep inside of him rebels. He extends his claws, keeping his claws short enough to hurt but not actually harm, then scratches Sam's midriff. Sam roars. They're rolling around in the bed battling for the top position, kicking their legs to free themselves of pants. Pause to kiss, lick glands and siphon, card hair lovingly, trail soft fingers, press close purring. Then someone tries to get the other under them again resulting in more growling, roaring, shoving, wrestling, and light violence. Dick barely feels when Sam’s fangs pierce skin, Sam doesn’t flinch when Dick’s claws stripe him. The tang of blood is in the air but no damage goes deep enough to leave lasting scars, full strength isn’t used. Pause to mark each other up and siphon and kiss again before they clash. It’s tunnel vision of a tale old as time―a story repeated so often it feels like a memory of your own experience when it isn’t. Dick’s certain he’s never experienced something like this yet in the back of his mind it’s nagging at him. He _knows_ what’s happening and has no idea, no care.

Sam’s flare is so strong his usual gorgeous amber and moss is sunflower and apple green, his double pair of fangs gleam brilliant gemstone red in Dick’s flare. Nobody exists in the universe but the two of them yet Dick’s got peripheral vigilance, ready to defend Sam should anyone be dumb enough to come too close. Time has ceased to exist. He’s aware of the knock on the door and Dean opening it. Aware of the conversation in the background.

“ _Is everything alright? We heard roaring._ ”

“ _Are they trying to kill each other?_ ”

“ _Nah. Nothing but love going on in here._ ”

“ _Are you sure? It looks like― Oh._ ”

“ _Yeah. But watch it. Anyone tryna come between them now gonna get shredded, me included.” *chuckle* “Don’t worry. It’ll be over soon._ ”

Aware of the scent of two new individuals, smelling afraid at first, then anxious but aroused, watching them from the doorway while Dean keeps up his rumble of encouragement and approval. 

Aware, but unheedful. Still, they pause to growl a warning at the newcomers before going at it again. 

Sam’s so strong, _so_ strong. Yet more and more often he ends up on his back with Dick grinding above him when they kiss and siphon. It's definitely not because Dick's stronger or the better fighter. It's something else entirely. Sam's taste is slowly changing too, almost imperceivable. Another round of feral wrestling but this time Sam's eyelids are heavier, his flare less intense. Without warning he flips around to lie on his belly, presenting.

Dick's on his fours above him, biting loosely at his neck before he pushes in. Sam's so slick he slips in almost with no resistance. Sam purrs, sedate and content, limbless and smiling. Dick fucks him hard and fast, tunnel vision intent, absorbed, immersed, barely aware of anything but Sam anymore. He comes within a minute. It's like someone cut his strings, leaving him jellied, limbless like floating goo drifting blissfully amongst clouds.

At some point, an eon or a minute, Sam tips him over and rolls on top of him. He's too dazed and lax to do anything but purr. Sam never turns feral. Instead, he ruts lazily while sucking on his ear gland, purr synched. He comes almost as fast as Dick had.

For a long time, they lie in a collapsed, sideways tangle caught in the zone between sleep and wakefulness, purring a pleased low-frequency rumble without thought. Then slowly, Dick starts coming back to himself enough to note his surroundings again. Sam's sweat-soaked skin glues hair to his forehead, his eyes are closed and a small smile curves his lips. Dean's back in the chair and the door is closed. Sam. Dick's chest aches with affection. Still so young. Barely a year as an adult and full of insatiable curiosity. Dick has all of these grand, unnamed feelings, listing to himself everything he wants to do to make Sam happy and successful in his endeavours. Sam is a happy, affectionate drunk who switches from having tons of inhibitions and standards to having no inhibitions at all. He’s the kind that says the most intelligent, clear-sighted things, yet does the most stupid shit once he’s got alcohol soaking his brain. Perhaps, to a degree, not unlike Dick himself. (Dean, on the other hand, gets louder and more outspoken, but doesn’t change his behaviour much from how he normally is in private. Maybe that's telling somehow? Maybe Dean is incredibly true to himself on a daily basis? If that's the case, then it bodes well for Dick.) He wants to help Sam find that magic middle ground between who he wishes he was and who he really is so the pendulum won’t swing so far when his inhibitions are lowered. Maybe that vague note of constant anxiety will go away then?

Dick reaches out to stroke the hair out of Sam’s face. Sam opens his eyes to look at him with tenderness and warmth, smile turning almost wistful in its nature. Perhaps he too has these big big feelings expanding his ribcage?

“Fuck, you two. Are you tryna kill me with cuteness?” Dean says with a chuckle.

“Don’t be ridiculous. That’d take way too long,” Dick deadpans lazily.

Sam’s smile widens drilling deep dimples into his cheek while Dean sniggers. “I take it your brains are hooked into the wiring again? So. Real talk. I don’t think there’s any doubt of what we think of the boys we dated, right? Especially since Sammy is well underway to develop his second mating bond,” Dean says ending by lifting an eyebrow dryly at Sam.

Sam groans and tips his nose onto the mattress. “I didn’t siphon and we used a condom, Dean. I was _careful_.”

“That’s not Luci?” Dick asks in surprise. Telling the Williams brothers apart by scent is next to impossible to him unless they’re standing next to each other. He reacts with different intensity to their scent in person, though, but telling them apart by a mating bond? Not a chance.

“Nope,” Dean answers, popping the P. “In that case, he woulda had it before he went with Mike and Gabe.”

“Then who is it?”

Sam mutters something unintelligible into the pillow.

“Come again?”

Sam lifts his head and answers, “It’s _Gabe_ ,” defeatedly before shuffling closer hiding his face by Dick’s pecs.

Dean laughs. “How bout that? I’da thought it’d be Mike since you let him siphon you. Hey, how the hell did you manage to discuss books while taking two knots anyway? Shouldn’t you be too tied up in both ends to add anything valuable to a conversation.”

“We...um. We stacked?” Sam’s voice lilts up at the end as if he’s asking rather than answering. “I like topping, Mike likes bottoming and, um, Gabe knotted me.”

“With a condom?” Dean wants clarified.

“Yes, Dean, with a condom,” Sam repeats with a sour twist to his lips.

“Damn, Sammy, you gotta have some wicked chemistry with these guys,” Dean grins. “Anyway, Marlon? He’s the odd one out. What y’all think about him?”

“You don’t like him?” Sam asks and struggles to sit up.

“What? Are you kidding me? Dude has an awesome sense of humour. ‘Course I _like_ him. But I overheard Lucifer say something about him to Dicky that might be cause for alarm.”

“He’s not suicidal,” Dick states with surety he shouldn’t feel. “The Marlon I know is the type that would fake his own suicide if he thought it would benefit his pack, but would fight literal gods with a teaspoon and win rather than die. Granted, I don’t know him very well. I don’t think anyone but Aiden did. But if anything, what I found out tonight only serves to confirm what I already suspected. There’s nothing he wouldn’t do for his pack. That doesn’t mean the same to him as it does to you, I’m sure. To him, you’re a non-person until you mean something to his pack.”

“You sure? Cuz when I’ve talked to people at work who’s been there since he worked in the office they've said it’s always been a good place of employment.”

“Mmh. Did you have livestock back at home, dear?”

“Uh, yeah? Chickens, a horse, two cows and a goat.”

“And Bobby has dogs,” Sam adds.

“Tell me, did you whip the horse, starve the cows, chase the chickens and kick the dogs?”

“Of course not!”

Dick almost laughs at both brothers’ offended expression. “Then why would he?”

Dean’s facial expression smooths out and he forms a silent ‘O’.

“Exactly, dear. To understand how he thinks you have to take a step back to get a bigger picture and when you’ve done that you zoom out even further until you’ve got fucking satellite view. If the President got assassinated while visiting China and it had any positive effects for the Williams Corp within a five-year timespan I’d wonder how Marlon pulled it off. He’s simply that much of an enigma to me and most people. Therein lies his power, I think. People either see him as a god or they forget that he wields the power of one.” Dick rolls onto his back to put his hands behind his head and huffs in amusement. “It was quite delightful to see you interact. Usually, he’d put an impudent little brat like you were acting like, in their place. I wonder if you’ll manage to crack down those walls and thaw that stony heart?”

Sam smells of anxiety and Dean of excitement. Dean’s face is serious, though. “Are you interested in running in a pack with them if we decide to join them?”

Dick closes his eyes, a smile stretching across his face. “Sharing a bed with Luci now and then? enjoying the latest musical with Mike? Not having to pretend it doesn’t delight me to no end when Gabe uses me as a jungle gym? Talking about my feelings and experiences with Raff late hours when we should have gone to bed long ago? Dear me, but I really am.”

“And Marlon?” Dean probes.

Dick opens an eye to a slit to see that Dean sits leaned forward in the chair, supporting his elbows on his knees and smiling lopsidedly. “That man scares me simply because I can’t figure out what he’s thinking, but he’s a good lover and a fucking fantastic dancer. If I was in his pack I’d trust him with my life.”

“Fair enough. Sammy? You wanna join up with the Williams bunch?”

Sam makes a hopeful, eager ‘ _Mrrt?_ ’-noise that gets a snigger out of both Dick and Dean.

“Yeah… suspected as much,” Dean grins at them. “I’m gonna need to pull Papa’s tail a bit more and talk things through with him before we do anything officially. In the meantime, feel free to date, fuck, or play with the boys to your heart’s content. If a mating bond happens it happens. No need to hold back like prude Conservatives, right? Besides, it seems like the only way to stop Sam from getting mated is to isolate him.”

Dick giggles while Sam rolls his eyes and bitchfaces Dean.

“Hey, don’t give me the stinky eye. Where’s the fucking lie?” Dean winks at his brother to lessen the sting of his words. Then he looks at Dick. “I’ll ask the landlord to make a key for you tomorrow. You’re welcome here whenever you feel like it, no need to call ahead or any bullshit like that. Our casa, su casa, okay? I get if you prefer to live in your own apartment until we upgrade, but you’re still welcome. You okay with me holding back on searching for a new apartment until we know if we’ll move in with the Williamses or not?”

A short laugh escapes Dick. It’s too absurd. It feels unreal. “Yes, dear,” he answers, straining to hold back the bubbling feeling that threatens to come out in the form of uncontrollable giggles.

“Then that’s settled for now. I know we’re all drunk and y’all are high to boot after having that kickass rank-establishing bonding sex, so if you have any objections when you sober up, you tell me, right? That goes for both of you.”

Sam just purrs in contentment in lieu of response.

A couple of hours later Dick wakes up sandwiched between two sleep-purring brothers that smell of happiness even in their sleep. They smell like home. His own scent is interwoven with theirs. He loves it. He distantly wishes he could have smelled himself on Toivo, Henry, Peter, everyone he’s ever been bonded with in the past. He’s tranquil in a way that’s unfamiliar, like something restless has been put to sleep inside of him. Maybe Crowley had been right all along? Maybe he's always been a Packrunner? He can't understand how anyone could _not_ want this―this sense of belonging, of being part of something, feeling respected, valued and loved. Part of him is terrified of what lies ahead. The possibility to move in with and be part of the lives of the men he's harboured a crush on since forever frightens him due to the risk that it might end some day. 

He wriggles free, noting that both brothers sniff in their sleep when he moves, assessing the mood behind the movement before relaxing to let him loose. He goes to the bathroom to relieve himself, drinks some water, then goes to find his phone. He sits down by the desk and starts typing a text.

`**Dick:** Hey... `

The answer comes almost immediately.

`**Crowley:** Are you alright, love? `

`**Dick:** I am. I was worrying about you. I’m so ruthlessly happy and ache for you to be too. I’m sleeping at the Winchesters’ place. Do you want me to come home?`

`**Crowley:** Don’t. I reek of another O and I know you’ll curl your lip at me for it whether you want to or not. Too tired to shower right now. I called Balt. He’s on a plane from Europe as we speak. The Williams boys treat you right?`

Dick smiles with sad warmth inside his ribcage.

`**Dick:** They did. Part of me doesn’t want to leave what we had behind. I love you. I always will. Just like I’ll always love Jeff despite the briefness of our mating. But you’ve been the most important person in my life for such a long time. It’s hard to let go of that. `

`**Crowley:** I love you too, darling. But let’s face it, none of us was happy with things as they were these last couple of years. Love doesn’t change that. `

Dick sighs. It’s true. Feelings are hard.

`**Dick:** Dean wasn’t an asshole to you when he ran after you, was he? `

`**Crowley:** No. He apologised. We’re practically besties now. `

Dick huffs, amused at the sarcastic tone that carries over through text. But the next one comes before he has a chance to answer.

`**Crowley:** He seems like a good kit. I get why you like him. If he’s up for a threesome, bring him over. Wink emoji. Just looking out for you, love. You’ve been my supporting shadow for years. Time for me to be it for you too. Remember that if all goes to hell you can scuttle back to me and Balt and we’ll figure out where to go next. Now get some sleep, take your time and come home after noon sometime. We’ll have some tea and talk. Love you. Good night.`

Dick grins at the ‘wink emoji’ written out. A few years back Crowley got a new phone that worked differently than his old. When he couldn’t find the emojis he simply wrote them and basked in the glow of Dick’s laughter at it. He’s long since figured his phone out but he still writes emojis out now and then because he knows Dick finds it funny. He writes one last good night message to Crowley before he puts his phone away. Crowley is tired and grumpy judging by the tone of his texts, but it’s possible he’d been awake worrying about Dick like Dick would if their roles were reversed. Now Dick’s calmer inside, having briefly talked to Crowl, so the same probably goes for his ex-mate. Tomorrow they’ll talk. 

Dick goes back to bed, Sam and Dean readjusting to let him fit between them once again with that glorious sleep purring creating the best lullaby one can ever hear.

It doesn’t take long to fall back to sleep.

* * *


End file.
